Blueprints
by Coulrophiliana
Summary: Jinx terrorizing Piltover is nothing new. But when she targets Jayce's lab, she does something she has never done before: take things with her. Something is definitely not right, and Jayce is determined to hunt her down and find out what it is.
1. Natural Light

Unfortunately, the first thing Jayce noticed was awry in his laboratory was not that half of his supplies were missing or that the inside walls had been covered in graffiti. The first thing he noticed was that a huge chunk of the ceiling was missing, letting the early morning sunshine flood into the building, shedding light on the rest of the havoc that had been wrought on his precious workshop. Bits and pieces of rubble littered the floor, no doubt having crushed inventions and materials more valuable than the building they were stored in.

Normally, Jayce's first instinct would have been that maybe Viktor—or some other equally twisted Zaunite—had sent someone to break in and get their grubby hands on whatever they could. But they would have been more likely to go for the blueprints as well as the technologies themselves. Some of his more recent technologies were still here, though, even if they were in a state of complete disrepair, and his tattered blueprints peeked out from beneath the grime and the rubble left by the ceiling. Besides, even a Zaunite, despite being what inhumane savages they were, wouldn't have blown a hole in the ceiling.

The only fortunate part of what had happened was that he was not left wondering for long who the perpetrator was. "THANX, HAMMER BOY! SEEYA!" was sprayed in hot pink on one wall. The adjacent wall was marked with the signature "X WUZ HERE" of Piltover's least favorite criminal. Jayce set his Mercury Hammer next to the door with a thud, leaving it propped up against the wall as he stepped inside to further inspect the damage done.

He stared open-mouthed at the chaos in his normally rather neat laboratory, not sure what to attempt to salvage first. As he gawked, a hand patted him hard on the shoulder in an unsuccessful attempt to be comforting. Then again, _comfort_ was not the first item on Jayce's list of priorities right now. It was pretty damn close to the bottom.

"Sorry about your lab, Jayce." It was Vi, having let herself into the building through the door Jayce had left ajar behind him. She wasn't wearing her hextech gauntlets (which explained why her hearty pat on his shoulder hadn't put him in the hospital), but her hands were clenched into tighter fists than his own. "Someone called in the sentry bots right when there was a commotion, but they didn't even budge."

Jayce didn't answer her or even make it apparent whether or not he had processed that she had spoken at all. He walked to the center of the lab, hefting a huge hunk of concrete out of the way. The blueprint it had been lying on top of was crumpled and smudged, having folded in on itself a few times. Jayce knelt down to pick it up, smoothing it out and blowing on it, tilting it downward to get the dirt and dust off of it. Some parts of it were certainly gone, having torn and fluttered away. Some of the markings had smudged beyond legibility. He would have to copy what he could over and reimagine the parts he couldn't remember, but it was salvageable. Hopefully the rest of the hundreds of blueprints were easily reparable. His hopes weren't too high.

"Some of the geeks at the office checked the sentry bots' logs. It looks like they haven't gone anywhere, even on patrol, in hours. That scrawny little psychopath must have disabled them or... or something. I don't know. The fact that she didn't just _destroy_ them is beyond me." Vi strutted in, leaning against a table and crossing her arms. "Did she take anything valuable in particular?"

"She took just about everything that she didn't break first." Jayce's voice came out a little more edgy than he had expected it to. Vi didn't seem to take it personally. "I'd say she took anything that wasn't bolted to the floor, but some of the things that _were_ bolted to the floor are gone. I don't know how she would have made it out with so much in so little time."

Vi huffed, pushing off the table so she could pace angrily. "Jinx always finds a way, somehow. I don't know how she managed to disable the sentries or how she knew when you were going to be gone." She swore, rubbing a hand across her mouth angrily.

"Or if it mattered at all that I was gone." The rubble had crushed his bed. Where he would have been sleeping was covered up entirely by the displaced roof. If it _had_ killed him, at least he wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath.

Jayce didn't try to make conversation when Vi didn't answer, probably irritated with his uncharacteristic gloominess and with the fact that Jinx had best her and had made out of Piltover having destroyed something and left a mark once more. She busied herself examining a twisted piece of metal that looked like it might have been important. Jayce was sure it was. He didn't know if he had the time or the means to repair it now, though.

It took him a few minutes to calm himself down enough to take inventory of what all was gone. Although the grime and the rubble was covering up the windows that usually let light flood into the workshop, the gaping hole above him lit up the room plenty. He liked natural light and lots of windows, but having no roof had the same result, but a lot more irritating.

As he had said before to Vi in a moment of irritation, it _did_ look like she had taken just about everything she could. It seemed like she only took the machines themselves. Most furniture was still there and, although his bookshelf had been tipped over, scattering books around the room, it looked like most of his papers, blueprints, and books were still there. What money he had that wasn't held in the value of his creations was left alone in the safe he had hidden in the floor beneath his bed.

Vi helped him move a lot of the rubble so he could see what had been crushed and what was still there, but didn't bother to help him sort through what pieces of crushed metal went to what machines. It was a long process, but like most Piltovians, they were getting very used to sorting through the destruction and devastation Jinx left in her wake. As the day dragged on, Jayce stayed as frosty as he had been right when Vi had showed up. It was disturbing because he was normally extremely forthright about his thoughts, but he seemed reluctant to talk. She didn't blame him. Most of the talking happening was Vi radioing back and forth with Caitlyn, the sheriff of Piltover, regarding the details of what had happened.

It was late into the afternoon and their work wasn't even half done when Caitlyn finally showed up. She looked frazzled and worn, like she had been awake for a long time. Although she was usually very put together, she had an empty mug in one hand that had probably had coffee in it at some point. Why she decided to bring the mug to Jayce's lab was most easily attributed to tiredness. In the other hand she had an inch-thick stack of paper clipped together. She went to take another drink from the mug, and looked disappointed when it was empty.

"Something isn't right," she announced shortly before looking up at the hole in the ceiling and taking a deep, aggravated breath. Vi stood up, dusting off her hands and walking over to greet her partner. Jayce didn't look up, eyes narrowed as he worked on smoothing out a blueprint on his desk. Despite a huge tear through the center and the fact that it was crumpled, it looked better than most of the ones they had found.

"Well, cupcake, for starters, there's a hole in the ceiling. That's not very right, if you ask me." Vi's voice was much more humorless than it should have been. "Or is it something _worse_ than that?"

Caitlyn dropped the stack of papers on the desk opposite Jayce. "I don't know. You radioed in earlier that she had taken... a lot." Vi gave a nod. "That doesn't seem _off_ to you? Both of you remember when she annihilated the bank. The building was destroyed, but nothing was taken. You know that she does this for fun, not for profit."

Vi furrowed her brows and even Jayce looked intrigued. "So, what? You think she didn't do it? I mean, I can't count on both hands how many people would want to get in this place, but this—" Vi indicated to the entire lab, "—is definitely her. You can't fake these kinds of stupid theatrics."

The sheriff shook her head. "Oh, I'm certain she did it. But we know she didn't take anything for profit. She never does. And if she _was_ looking for money, why wouldn't she just hit the bank again? Or anywhere else that she wouldn't have to fence everything she took? I highly doubt she would know how to use any of Jayce's machines, or if she would need any of them."

Caitlyn looked at Jayce for confirmation. He shook his head. "I don't make things psychopaths can use. My inventions exist to help people." He stood up, gathering his things up into the bag he normally used for travelling. Vi and Caitlyn watched him curiously. He didn't spend long getting ready before going back to the door, taking the Mercury Hammer from its spot against the door frame.

"Where do you think you're going?" Vi asked as he shouldered his weapon, ready to go out the door without mentioning anything to them.

"I'm going to her. I need to find out what she wants." Caitlyn and Vi looked at each other, nearly exasperated. The last time Jayce had gone on this kind of mission, he had torn through Zaun and ultimately destroyed Viktor's lab, nearly killing himself and the other inventor in the process. They had no personal qualms about him getting rid of Jinx (other than Vi's deep-seated desire to do it herself), but whether or not he could kill her without getting blown to bits first was up for debate. Besides, they didn't know what hole she crawled out of to come terrorize their city.

Both women stared incredulously. "...And you think you'll be able to find her?"

"I guess we'll find out."

* * *

**A/N:** I don't know if anyone is going to read this because it's a strange pairing but it feels so very _right_ to me (is that weird?). This is a new account after I lost the information to my past accounts and I'm still getting back in the habit of writing, so I'm sorry if any of my grammar or structuring seems off. Reviews and other attempts at communication are welcome!


	2. Cat's in the Cradle

The amount of useful information Jayce had at his disposal was minimal. Vi and Caitlyn had been reluctant to let him run off alone with no real plan in mind. Caitlyn in particular wasn't fond of his tendency to run into situations half-cocked and totally alone without a Plan B in case of emergency, let alone a Plan A. Vi's primary concern was that one of them would end up dead—and the only reason she really seemed concerned about Jinx's well-being in the first place was that she wanted to be able to gloat that Piltover had prevailed (and even better, that Jinx had failed). Whether or not Jayce had the time or the attitude to brag about the Piltovian victory remained to be seen.

Despite her reluctance to support his notoriously rash decision-making, Caitlyn had been helpful to make sure he at least had a direction to go. Being the fussy strategist she was, she had insisted that he stay behind and help them come up with yet another plan to trap the criminal at large. If Jinx was doing something strange now, it was likely she would be back to do something strange again and a stakeout would be most effective, as Caitlyn had rambled on. She had interjected her matronly disapproval of the inventor's actions, but had not otherwise tried to stop him.

Vi had clearly been bummed out that she wasn't allowed to come along with him, as if Jayce was the wrong person to hunt her down once and for all. Caitlyn had reminded her firmly of her duties right there within Piltover's city walls ("Aw, come on, cupcake! I never do anything fun!"), and that it was very likely that Jinx would return to rain some new hell down upon the city while Jayce was gone. Vi's spirits were easily brought up with just a little extra ego-stroking on Caitlyn's part ("You are the only law enforcement officer on hand with a chance of bringing her to justice!").

As it was, Vi's immediate knowledge of the finer details of the case file itself (beyond that the blue-haired bitch's face needed to be punched in) was less extensive than Caitlyn's, even though the information they had on Jinx's actual location was almost negligible. The direction Jinx's clownishly painted missiles usually came from was their primary lead, and the second most seemingly useful bit of information was the way she was dressed.

The missiles usually flew in from the southwest, over the inlet of water that separated the City of Progress from the polluted stain on Valoran known as Zaun. Even more, Jinx's devil-may-care attitude and immodest garb was entirely reminiscent of what was in Zaunite vogue—it certainly wasn't Piltovian, which was generally much more modest in attitude and charming in dress.

Jayce certainly wasn't Zaun's greatest fan, and the city-state wasn't too pleased with him either. Ultimately, his goal was to avoid going into (or even too close to) city proper, lest they reduce him to a remotely human-and-hammer-shaped black outline on the ground the second they caught sight of him (and he didn't doubt that this was a likely reaction from both the city-state of Zaun and Jinx herself). Viktor wielded a hell of a lot of power in Zaun due to his multitude of unethical inventions that the "scholars" there hailed as masterpieces.

Then again, Jayce usually reassured himself, those same scholars were the ones who let industry operate unchecked, weighing the atmosphere there down with toxic smog that was probably shaving years off the lifespan of anyone who spent more than a few hours in the city limits. He hadn't been there in a long time, but he was sure that their guard towers probably had pictures of his face plastered on the walls with warnings to eviscerate him on sight. Zaunites were generally unfriendly toward the people of Piltover, but Jayce was the only one who'd had the guts to stand up for the safety of his city (and the destruction of his first lab).

Even after being dubbed Piltover's Sentinel as a result of his charge on Viktor's laboratory and corruption, he was not officially affiliated with the police department. As far as he was concerned, the title had very little meaning. Jayce had no interest in being a part of the police department. It was too much work and too little freedom to take matters into his own hands, as he was wont to do (much to Caitlyn's chagrin and Vi's amusement). Although Vi was pretty flexible with Piltover's code of police ethics, she was pretty fond of the idea of having a plan. Jayce preferred to play things by ear—the only thing that was certain was the present. Plans could change, but the present could not. That was what made his rush on Zaun so successful—and why it bothered him so much that he had to be so close to the reprehensible city-state.

It wasn't comforting in the slightest that Jayce didn't know for sure whether or not Jinx actually _lived_ in Zaun, but it seemed likely that she at least lived nearby. After all, Jayce knew of only two city-states in all of Valoran that would house such a high-caliber, relentless psychopath, and he was highly doubtful that, if she was from Noxus, someone as skinny and delicate-looking as Jinx would regularly pass through the Ironspike Mountains to launch attacks on Piltover.

Caitlyn made it very clear that he was to tread very carefully near Zaun, and to keep her updated as well as he could from wherever he was (and he had to remind her more than once that she was not his mother, although she liked to believe she had as much authority). Vi had requested in hushed tones so Caitlyn wouldn't hear that he haul Jinx's scrawny ass into custody if at all possible, just so she could have the sweet satisfaction of jailing her and "making that little bitch cry." She had made it clear that Jayce was allowed to act as an agent of the Piltover Police Department, although _probably_ no one was going to be crying out for Jinx's basic human rights.

With what little knowledge he had of where he was going and why, Jayce set out on his journey. Going somewhere without knowing much about the _where_ was just as difficult as he had expected, and it wasn't until he was only about an hour's walk outside Piltover's city gates that he realized that he was immensely less prepared than he had initially believed. He knew his way to Zaun just fine and was wandering there, but he didn't know where to turn off or even what to look for.

From what he knew of her, Jayce figured Jinx probably lived somewhere in a cardboard box or in a hole underground. He had only caught glimpses of her, a little blur of blue and black as she ran through the city, sometimes past his lab or the academy where he would occasionally do research. He knew what her face looked like for sure; he had seen it everywhere on posters in Piltover, situated right beneath the word "WANTED". That word alone seemed like a vast overstatement regarding Piltover's feelings toward the psychopath. Jayce was doubtful _any_ city would want that _thing_ and the mass destruction that clung to it, but he had been surprised by foreign capacities for appreciating madness before.

The walk was quiet, lonely, and time-consuming, three of Jayce's least favorite adjectives when he wasn't creating something incredible. He could put up with solitude if he needed to think, but being left to his thoughts wasn't so appealing right now. That left far too much time for his mind to linger on doubts and fears. He was a man that highly valued confidence and perseverance, but time spent alone without anything to think about but the road under his feet often caused his mind to give way to those negative thoughts. In his experience, too much thinking caused too little action. He didn't very easily give way to cowardice, but going into Zaun did seem plenty daunting.

If he remembered right, walking to Zaun at a brisk pace had taken him a little under a day, accounting for sleeping. But he had moving like a hurricane then, unfettered by the negative thoughts and anxiety that bothered him now. Now he was moving like a prisoner on a death march, and he wondered what the difference really was. He had a few ideas. Maybe it was because he didn't know exactly where he was going now, and that was dragging his confidence down like a cinderblock in water.

Then again... Then again, maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen her do it. Jayce was a people person. He was an immensely empathetic person and always had been. While he was revered as one of the most intellectually gifted people in Piltover—and he certainly wasn't going to deny a claim so flattering—he liked to convert his thoughts into something tangible, something he could touch. That was why, in his younger years, he struggled so much with making blueprints for his creations. He didn't want to put his ideas on paper; he wanted to bring them to life right away, no instructions necessary.

Seeing Viktor wreck through his lab, destroying his belongings for selfish reasons that Jayce really couldn't wrap his mind around, was really all he needed to ignite the spark he needed to sit down and toil tirelessly for days on his precious Mercury Hammer. The flame had goaded him into rampaging straight into Zaun and hunting Viktor down and destroying the immensely the arcane crystal that had been stolen from him, nearly at the risk of his own life and Viktor's. He had seen what Viktor had done, and he hadn't been able to empathize.

The fact that he hadn't seen Jinx made it very hard for him to pin the same sense of blame and animosity on her. He hadn't seen her crash through his ceiling like the one-girl wrecking crew she was, destroying everything she couldn't get out of the entryway she had created and spray-painting her name on the walls, inexplicably proud of the vexation she would inevitably cause for no real reason. Envisioning it happening was easy, but it wasn't the same. The spark wasn't there. He wanted desperately to find her and get his creations back before she ruined them, but his feet were dragging. He wanted to hate her like he had hated Viktor. But he hadn't been there to see her wrong him.

Jayce slowed to a stop, leaning on the hammer for a moment so he could rub his eyes. He was tired of walking already, and he didn't know if hunting down the little blue-haired menace that had terrorized his city and mercilessly razed his laboratory was worth his life. He estimated he was probably a few hours under halfway there, considering he hadn't quite rounded the tip of the inlet of water that separated Piltover from Zaun. He could see the greyish-green cloud hanging overhead in the distance across the body of water. The longer he stared at it, the more desperately he did _not_ want to go there.

He stood there for longer than he should have, thinking harder than he needed to. What would they say if he flipped around and marched right back to Piltover with the news that he was a spineless coward who couldn't face a girl that he easily had, what, eighty pounds and a foot of height on? Maybe finding her and seeing her was just what he needed. Seeing her laugh unrepentantly about the atrocities she had committed against Piltover sounded like just the kick in the head Jayce needed to pull himself together.

The sound of wheels on the uneven dirt road rumbling up behind him didn't even register until the vehicle was dangerously close to hitting him. He jerked out of the way just in time for the autonomously moving carriage to miss his foot by a few inches. It was motorized, not magic, judging from the heat coming off the side of it and the fumes swirling out of the exhaust pipe into the atmosphere. The carriage was a big purple thing that looked like a little girl's tacky music box with wheels attached.

After a moment, the dark-tinted window on the side of the carriage lowered. A girl maybe fifteen years of age stared back at him. She wore makeup that looked like it belonged on a woman in a gaudy cabaret or a sleazy Noxian alleyway, not a teenager in a cutesy violet carriage. The makeup contrasted with the youthful pigtails the girl wore in her fine, curly blonde hair. Jayce was so baffled that he couldn't think of anything to say right away. Fortunately, she spoke first.

"Are you ill?" Her voice was high-pitched but soft, as though she had trained her voice to be as feminine as possible. Jayce blinked at her a few times, desperately trying to make a connection between his brain and his voice. It was a wonder that his newly independent voice box didn't just make a groaning noise at the curious adolescent. Maybe he _was_ ill.

"I'm fine. Thanks." An inappropriately normal answer for someone who had almost been run over, Jayce thought dryly. "I was just resting for a second. I'm on my way to Zaun, wasn't paying attention." Was he? He didn't think he had come to a decision once and for all, but he didn't plan on sharing his life story with this particularly odd stranger. She was probably thinking just the same thing.

The girl didn't answer right away. Once more, Jayce was almost wounded by the carriage when the door began to extend outward more quickly than he had been expecting, nudging him back and giving him only enough time to take a big step back to make room for the big purple door she was sitting behind to open. The door on the other side had opened as well, as evidenced by the fact that he could see through the carriage to the sun setting behind the mountains to the west.

He stared at her, dumbfounded, and she stared right back with a robotically empty expression on her face. It took a maddeningly long time for her to say anything. Despite the fact that he really didn't want to be alone again, he furrowed his brow and considered turning around and running away, probably screaming like a madman so she wouldn't follow him. He wished right then that he wasn't tethered to bothersome things like sanity and social awareness.

She raised her chin at him so she could look down her nose at him. There was a visible line on her jaw where the pasty white makeup ended and where her fair skin began. Maybe she was an actress, or a clown. Or an asylum patient. "My name is Kitty. I work in Zaun. I can take you there." Instantly the corner of Jayce's mouth tugged upward as he began to politely protest, but she cut him off before he was able to even speak. "I insist. It would be unkind of me to leave a gentleman here all by his lonesome."

It wasn't worth fighting with her. Besides, getting trapped in a carriage headed toward Zaun was really the only way to guarantee he would get there. He could just ask to be dropped off outside city proper, claiming his business was somewhere on the outskirts. Whether or not that would work on this _automaton_ was a different story altogether.

He loaded his Mercury Hammer into the carriage before climbing in himself. As he had suspected, she was inside alone. She stared at him, powdery blue eyes boring into him as the doors closed behind him. The second the doors clicked shut, the carriage continued to rumble. Despite the dim of the inside of the carriage, Jayce could see that she was wearing a dress not unlike something a child's porcelain doll would wear, her politely folded hands covered in silken gloves. He stared out the window, trying to ignore the fact that there was a teenage girl sitting across from him, not blinking quite often enough to seem alive. He didn't want to look close enough at her chest to guess whether or not she was really breathing. She was like a flesh-covered version of the clockwork girl that lived in Piltover, with fewer jerky movements and more uncannily inhuman mannerisms.

They rode in silence for a long while. Even though Jayce felt awkward in the presence of this bizarre girl, he had to admit he was making much better time in the impressively fast carriage. And nearly any company was better than no company. "I like your hammer. It's very big and dangerous."

The statement took him by surprise. Big and dangerous? Jayce wondered if _she_ was ill. Were those really her qualifiers for object appreciation? Nevertheless, he gave a courteous smile. "Thanks. I made it myself."

"What is your business in Zaun?" Kitty asked abruptly, as if she had forgotten that she had already made an attempt at conversation. An attempt he was responsive to, no less.

Jayce scratched absently at his jaw, trying to decide whether or not truthfulness would be beneficial to him right now. He supposed he could ask. "I'm looking for a girl."

"To marry? I know lots of girls, for very cheap."

He shook his head, trying to act like that was not the single strangest thing she could have possibly responded with. He was almost offended that she would even imply that he would need to _pay_ for a woman, to marry or use otherwise, but had to remind himself that her marbles were practically rolling out of her ears. "No, it's a different kind of business. I'm not sure if she even lives in Zaun or nearby, but it's the only place I can think of to look for her."

"Who is the girl?"

Jayce shrugged, heaving a deep breath. "You'd know her if you saw her. Not very tall, she's got these really long blue braids, a really obnoxious laugh..."

In the first strictly human act the girl had performed since Jayce had met her, the girl gave an understand nod. "I have seen very little of this girl, but I know of her. She declined our recruitment requests and mailed a bomb that devastated our home." _Well, we're definitely talking about the same person._ "She lives in a strange little tower outside Zaun. I can take you there."

"No kidding," he answered incredulously. "I can pay you, if you—"

"No. No money, since this is not a normal service. I may ask a favor in return for my help." He wasn't sure if she was saying it was possible she would ask a favor, or if she was giving herself permission. Either way, Jayce didn't argue with her. This was the fastest way to get to Jinx, no doubt. Even better, he knew what Jinx's home looked like (there were only so many strange little towers outside Zaun, surely) and that she didn't live directly in the city. All it took was accepting a ride with a stranger. He couldn't wait to see the look Caitlyn's face when he got to inform her that he had benefited from something so sketchy.

He waited politely for her to tell him what the favor _was_. So long as it didn't involve anything _that_ humiliating or otherwise physically or emotionally damaging, he figured it was doable. Maybe, with any luck, she would forget by the time they got there and he could consider it a favor on the house. That seemed unlikely, but maybe it was worth a shot.

Kitty spoke once more, announcing, "I think I will sleep now. It will take three hours to get to the city gates of Zaun. Your friend's home will be three hours and thirty minutes. You should sleep as well." Jayce gave a short nod, and she didn't speak again.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter was long and dry and otherwise pretty dull. The next chapter or two probably won't be as long, but so long as I don't get too busy talking about what a little bitch Jayce is, Jinx should actually make an appearance in the next chapter. Like always, reviews are welcome (and I'm sorry that this chapter reads like a textbook on how not to be a grownass man).


	3. Union of Understanding

Jayce was a long way from comfortable with how close Zaun was getting. He had forgotten how truly daunting the city was from outside, with its enormous buildings and factories growing out of the top, pipes stretching up desperately toward the sky and disappearing into the dark cloud of smog that swirled above. The time of day was difficult to guess in Zaun, but he figured it was nighttime. It was too dark to be otherwise, and the sun had been setting a few hours ago. He hadn't been keeping track of the passage of time, but the girl across from him had told him it would be a little over three hours to get where they were going.

To Jayce's relief, the carriage did not proceed down the main road toward the huge bronze gate that would lead into Zaun. Guards were posted atop towers on either side of the gate and dotted the road in. He figured the windows of the deceptively feminine carriage he sat in were plenty to keep them from noticing him right away, but he sunk back into the seat anyway, trying to stay out of the view of anyone who might have looked into the dark tinted windows. It was now that he was especially grateful to Kitty and her strange motorized carriage. Otherwise he would have been recognized, and he would have been coughing out the toxic atmosphere.

The carriage made a sharp turn from the cracked cobblestone road leading into Zaun to an even coarser dirt road that twisted northwest, closer to the body of water that kept Zaun and Piltover apart. Because he was so unused to the polluted fog that even hung close to the ground in Zaun, it was hard for him to see too far away, but he certainly couldn't see any nearby towers outside the city, along the disgusting beach, that would be suited to Jinx.

"You look nervous," Kitty announced primly, smoothing her dress of wrinkles that hadn't been there in the first place. "Does the girl make you nervous?"

_Well, yeah, but that's not why I'm trying to sink into the seat_, Jayce thought dryly. Since she had woken up, she had been eager to point out every little thing he did. He had only slept for around an hour before twitching awake on a particularly rough bump in the road that he had been so sure was an acolyte of Viktor shocking the carriage. He was vigilant the rest of the way, and Kitty had pointed out that he looked paranoid. Inwardly he agreed, but he told her that he was just feeling restless.

"No," he stated, narrowing his eyes to get a better look out the window, "she doesn't make me nervous. Angry and annoyed, yes."

"Then why are you hiding?"

Jayce toed his Mercury Hammer, making sure the weapon was still safely secured under his seat. It was a snug fit, but the carriage was just long enough to contain it with an inch or so of room to spare so he wouldn't have to yank on it to get it out.

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with a leather-gloved hand. "I've got a few people in Zaun who aren't so fond of me. I don't think they would take making amends as a valid excuse for being in their territory." He made sure not to point out that it was really only the one person that hated him on a personal level. Making it sound like it was more than one sounded much less cowardly and would discourage questions of _who_ much better.

Kitty was quiet for a while then, riding in silence for nearly twenty minutes. Jayce observed her as best he could, trying to keep his mind off of was exactly he was going to do when he found Jinx. He had thought too much about it already, although he let his mind wander over his rudimentary plan—if it could even be called that—for only a moment.

Do his best not to throttle her on sight like Vi probably would, first of all. He was strong enough to carry her sorry ass back to Piltover on his shoulder like Freljordian hunters did when returning with their prey, but whether or not he had the energy to march back there without resting was up for debate. It was possible, but not likely.

He put it out of mind, even though he was getting too close to keep putting it off. There was only so much time that he could think about the strange girl across from him. The teenager confounded him. What it was that she _did_ in Zaun wasn't clear, but judging from the kinds of strange things she said, it sounded like she was either affiliated with some kind of cultish brothel or some kind of brothelish cult. She was only a kid, though, and he hoped he was wrong about that. Still, she had spoken plenty about selling people, and he hoped he hadn't gotten caught up in some human trafficking scheme.

For what was probably the first time since he had gotten into the carriage, Jayce spoke first. "How old are you, Kitty?" He felt strange saying her name for the first time, and he felt like a creep for calling her that. The sound of his own voice giving a teenager a pet name did not sit well with him.

"Fourteen as of two months ago," she chimed, as if it wasn't strange that she was making friends with an adult man. "How old are you, mister?"

Had he really not given her his name? Jayce couldn't tell if her referral to him as "mister" was a passive way of reminding him or just a courtesy. Either way, he didn't see a real reason to give this somehow unhinged little girl his name. If she went back to Zaun and mentioned that she had personally escorted Jayce from Piltover into their territory, she would be in for a world of hurt that Jayce knew she didn't deserve.

He thought about overstating his age to make the difference between them seem even larger. She was somehow even younger than he had initially believed, and that unsettled him even more. He saw outside that the city was far enough away that the guards probably wouldn't be skulking around, so he leaned forward, tilting his head down so he could rub the back of his neck. Being trapped in the carriage so long was making him sore. "Twenty-six."

Kitty pursed her lips and nodded, looking dead ahead as if she was calculating something. Jayce considered for a moment adding "Too old for you!" onto the end of his statement, but didn't want to put the idea in her head. Even thinking that she might be considering anything of the sort made _him_ the creep. "That's not very old. I thought you were older... Oh, well."

She sounded disappointed. Jayce couldn't imagine why. He didn't answer, although his first instinct was to protest that he did _not_ look that old. He had been checked for identification at a Demacian bar only a few months ago. He kept his gaze out the window, watching for any landmarks that might indicate Jinx was nearby. He would try to bail on her the second he could. Rumbling up to Jinx's home (or lair, or whatever it was the abomination lurked in) in a purple cart was hardly what he'd imagined.

He stared out the window for a little while, hoping that maybe for once her own words would strike her as strange. It seemed unlikely. "What do you do in Zaun, Kitty?"

"I am going to ask you about my favor now, for when you're done with your business."

Jayce didn't answer, hoping she would continue before he agreed to anything. If she talked long enough, he could probably get out if the favor wasn't something he could do without extreme sacrifice. He already knew the kind of crazy that was waiting for him where Jinx was, and he didn't want to exceed his daily limit before he even got there.

"I belong to a small society of women and some men in Zaun and Noxus. I believe we have a few members located in Piltover as well," she began diplomatically, as if she had forgotten entirely about the favor already.

Despite his personal insistence that she probably wasn't up to anything strange, he really hoped she wasn't about to recruit him into some strange guild that heralded the buying and selling of people. He wondered if he could get the carriage doors open without knowing how. It seemed to be mechanical, but he didn't see any buttons or levers that might operate the doors.

"A long time ago, the society was created to form a... _union of understanding_, or so they called it, between many youths of nobility, like myself, and those less fortunate, like the orphans who resort to manual labor and self-degradation to keep themselves alive." There wasn't much in the way of homelessness in Piltover. Despite the risk Jinx posed on children and the sick and weak living in the city at all, the shelters for those who couldn't afford anything otherwise were highly accommodating. It was appropriate for the City of Progress, Jayce always thought, that they would take the best care of their unfortunate.

But he had a feeling that what was going on with Kitty's _small society_ was not anything Piltovian in the slightest, and judging from the hollow stare she was giving him, he wasn't going to like the favor she asked of him. Just about anything originating in Noxus or Zaun bode poorly for people like him, those that had active consciences.

Kitty continued when he didn't speak. "We realized that there was a way to profit from this. You see, the unfortunates we picked up off the streets were alone in the world. No one to care for them. No family, no friends save for those who were just as poor and insignificant. We took those that had value otherwise—charm from all the begging, strength from all the labor, or even those who were good-looking beneath all the grime—and... _employed_ them across Valoran."

"You mean you sold them," Jayce answered, not putting forth any effort to cover up the glacial tone to his voice. She didn't seem bothered.

With a shrug, she dismissed what he had said. "There's always work to be done in Valoran, and a one-time fee is much better than paying to maintain a family of three every month. Caves need mined, brothels need filled, armies need front lines... The younger, the better. But there's an issue lately, and that's why I picked you up in the first place."

Jayce felt a spark of indignant rage in his ribcage. She had been planning on this? Surely she didn't mean to enslave _him_. There was something else she wanted from him, and he wasn't willing to hear it. Nothing this deranged child could say would come anywhere near changing his mind. As much as he hated Zaun (and despite the bad taste even the thought of Noxus left in his mouth), he wasn't willing to take part in the ruthless manipulation of its more destitute residents.

"You can stop now. I'm not going to help you enslave people."

She looked disappointed. Her foot shifted just slightly and the carriage came to a stop. Kitty stood up and turned around so she could sit next to him, pressed as closely to his side as possible. Immediately he jerked away from her, but she followed him. "It's easy work. We just need you to seduce women into our care, and the rest is up to us. We pay per recruit. Just say yes and I'll let you go take care of your business with the other woman before we arrange the details."

As she spoke, Jayce tried to get a good look at the little series of levers that she had been controlling with the heels of her feet. There were about five of them, and each of them was capped in a different color. One of those had to open the doors.

"No. You have my answer, and I think we're all done here," he told her firmly, raising his hands so he could move to where she had been sitting before. She stayed where she was, her mouth tightening as she huffed, her eyes narrowed in silent fury. Jayce tried to be subtle as he looked at the hinges on the door again, trying to figure out at all which lever operated the huge doors.

On one of the hinges, he spotted a tiny number "3", a shade lighter than the rest of the purple that coated the inside of the carriage that was invisible to anyone who wasn't looking for it.

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but... it'd be a terrible shame if the people of Piltover found out that their _revered_ inventor, their golden boy, _violently _took advantage of a young Zaunite noble..." In a surprising demonstration of strength, she tore a long gash down the front of her dress and began to wail melodramatically. Even her sobs sounded calculated and robotic.

Jayce knew immediately what she planned on doing. He didn't respond to her threat, slamming down on the third lever from the right with the heel of his foot.

That clearly wasn't it.

The carriage started, taking off much faster than it had been going before. He didn't bother trying to fix it, only going for the lever next to the one he had pressed, the third from the left instead. The doors flung open much quicker than they had when he had first gotten in.

"Good luck with that. I've got enough crazy planned for today." He bent down just quick enough to grab onto his Mercury Hammer, pulling it free before leaping from the moving carriage, tumbling as he hit the ground so he didn't break anything. He'd have some scrapes and bruises, but nothing that wouldn't heal in a few days.

He stood up to watch the violet carriage speed away, breathing heavily and using his hammer to support his weight as he stood.

In the time of maybe a second, the carriage exploded, teenager and all, a long trail of white smoke visible from where he stood. Jayce's eyes traced up the length of the smoke. At the very end, at the top of a tower that blended in with the rest of the terrain almost perfectly. Its only flaw, as it stood, was the gigantic missile launcher that was pointed off the roof. He could only see two blue braids flying above the missile launcher, presumably attached to the person sitting on top of it.

"For the last time, I don't want to join your stupid cult!" reverberated through the air, followed shortly by a gleeful cackle he could place anywhere.

Jayce cracked an incredulous grin and put the gigantic hammer over his shoulder, taking advantage of her distraction to approach the huge tower she sat atop. Somehow, through some stroke of tremendous luck, he'd found her.

* * *

**A/N: **There she is! Daily updates probably aren't going to be the norm (okay, definitely aren't going to be the norm) since I have class Tuesday through Thursday, but I'll add chapters as often as I can, and they're probably going to all be this short, since I don't want to start writing _more_ and then not be able to find a place to end the chapter. Is that weird too? Chapters might get longer as I get more into the habit of writing, maybe. Hopefully I'll have an update tomorrow night, if there's time!


	4. A Guiltless Pleasure

_It's not a guilty pleasure if I don't feel bad for it at all._

That was the mantra Jinx had chanted to her persnickety rocket launcher, Fishbones, every time he reminded her that she was being voyeuristic, like it was something for her to be _ashamed_ of. The stupid gun always thought he was so smart, up on his pedestal of glory for wanting to lead a normal life. Some rocket launcher _he_ turned out to be. A death machine that didn't love its job was hardly worth its weight in scrap. Jinx had locked Fishbones in a supply closet for a few hours to make him think about what he was trying to tell her.

Besides, it wasn't like she was always watching. She had _much_ more important things to do—plan (well, "plan," a little more accurately) her next attacks on Piltover, find new ways to piss Vi off as much as possible. Knowing that Fat Hands was sitting around all flustered and mad because she knew deep down that Jinx was so much better was entirely cathartic, even though Jinx was extremely low-stress as it was. It was hard to picture Hat Lady quite as mad about it, but Jinx didn't care so much about _her_.

It was ultimately satisfying to see the so-called City of Progress reeling because of her influence. The long-distance binoculars she had nicked from a dead Zaunite guard—he had been killed in a shoot-out with a thief, who made off with all his money but left his more _interesting_ possessions behind—were perfect for her to watch Piltover from her window. In fact, given their previous owner, the binoculars had probably been invented for that exact purpose.

Despite her frequent excursions into Piltover to annihilate some section of the city she hadn't seen explode yet, it was really hard to see the insides of the city very well. What she saw with the binoculars was pretty vague as it was—she could see reconstruction going on pretty much nonstop, since she made sure to crash back in and destroy something else right when they were almost done rebuilding—but she wanted a grittier look at the squeaky clean City of Progress. That was mostly what had driven her to sneak the cameras into Piltover.

_Subtle_ was one of Jinx's least favorite adjectives, but she had left the little hextech cameras around Piltover to keep an eye on them. They were hardly noticeable, little black things no bigger than marbles that just sat in the top corner of a room, broadcasting everything going on in there to the sets of televisions she had set up, stacked haphazardly on top of each other. The one she had put in the sheriff's office was discovered almost immediately, but they didn't accuse her of leaving it there (well, maybe Vi had, but the cameras didn't transmit sound at all). Hat Lady had stepped on it, so now all it displayed was static on the television it was connected to.

None of the others had been discovered, though. She had put the rest around the city at random, in places she figured might see some excitement. One was attached to the carousel at the Piltover Zoo, a few were on the streets, and one had been hooked up in that guy with the dumb hammer's house-lab-thing, if only because he hadn't been home when it happened and it seemed like that might be a good place to find new things to taunt the law enforcement officers of Piltover with. She had seen the pretty boy with them a few times.

It wasn't long before Jinx shut a few of them off herself. The one on the merry-go-round made her dizzy, just because it was rotating all the time and it usually stopped where all Jinx could see was a brick wall, which was just about the least exciting thing she could think of. One of them had been stepped on, leaving an annoying black stripe through the center of the footage.

Watching the screens was mesmerizing when she let herself look at them too long. The people on the streets of Piltover were boring, going about their business with not an exciting thought in their heads. They looked up a lot, as if they expected to see her come crashing down on them at any moment—that made her happy, knowing they were _all_ thinking about her. But those were little details she didn't care to watch for all too often. Every time she sat down with a big bowl of popcorn or sweets to watch the screens while stuffing handfuls into her mouth, she would end up watching the same screen sometimes for hours on end.

He never did anything very exciting. Sometimes all Jinx would get to watch all night was him hunched over his stupid little desk with papers scattered everywhere as he scribbled and sketched, pulling away occasionally to examine some piece of junk before going right back to what he was doing. Most times, that was all he did for hours and hours on end before he would bathe and go to bed.

Other days were more exciting. He'd spend the day with a blowtorch and tons of other tools scattered about him as he welded and hammered bits of metal together, looking back to those blueprints he had doodled up almost obsessively. Jinx sometimes hoped he would drop the blowtorch while it was going and burn the place down, but the worst he would ever do was singe his fingertip, hiss, and put it in his mouth. He would usually take that time after he had burned himself to set down whatever he was working on and leave for a while.

Sometimes he wouldn't come home until the next morning, or later. That didn't happen all that often, but she bet she knew what Piltover's golden boy was up to—even though he never reappeared in little workshop with a pretty girl hanging off of his arm, she knew that wasn't too far from what was going on. It was equally satisfying and frustrating that he was going out and doing something that was not going to be perfectly _orderly_ of him, stepping out of that niche the city seemed to have him in. He was the apotheosis of Piltovian ideals, and knowing that even their best was imperfect struck her as a good thing, most of the time.

Watching him sketch or build or masturbate or sleep and not watching him at all did not measure up to the awe of watching him _complete_. The second he completed the final touches of one of his inventions, he would always do the same thing. He would brush off invisible flecks of dust, set it down, take a step back, and smirk while he eyed it, knowing that he was going to be praised once more. The inventions themselves were beautiful, sure—seldom were they the destructive weapons she _knew_ he was capable of making, but the way they would gleam and shine and spark was incredible. She didn't have any idea what most of them did, but she liked them nonetheless.

Initially, Jinx would only stop to watch for a few minutes at a time when she went to check the other cameras as well, trying to catch a glimpse of someone looking up at the sky when a zeppelin passed, before getting back to work on her own endeavors.

Then, she started watching whenever she saw him moving around at all. Sometimes he was crossing the room to get some other tool or he was turning over as he slept, and she would stop and watch him work or sleep like he was a big cat in a cage at the zoo (the very same she had destroyed twice, liberating the animals in the process both times). Sometimes she would sit there for a little while too long before she realized that those peaceful streets were the very same she was planning on dropping landmines on during her next visit. Maybe Fat Hands would lose a foot.

It wasn't until Fishbones started pointing out how creepy she was being, watching an unsuspecting man who lived alone go about his life, that she watched for even longer periods of time, almost obsessively. She would catch herself staring at an empty room for hours on end, waiting for him to come home, and after acknowledging how much of her own time she was wasting doing that, she would continue to sit there and wait.

She couldn't figure out what it was about just watching him live that fascinated her so much. Considering she usually turned to dropping bombs on a maddeningly innocent city for entertainment instead of ogling at a television screen, it was particularly bizarre that she was so captivated by Hammer Boy and his stupid lab.

Fishbones had plenty of terrible solutions ("Just settle down and get cable to watch reality television!" was among the least helpful) to her undefined problem. He had called it an obsession, but Jinx had called it a research hobby. As if _she_ was going to feel bad about doing a little in-depth research on her favorite city-state in the whole word. It took a long time for her to figure out what she wanted to do with her new research. Jinx was really not much for having information and nothing to do with it—which made her poor memory perfectly suited to her—and she was very hands-on, despite how bad she wanted to use all she had learned about the fool with the hammer to taunt the police. Sure, she couldn't remember what his name was or if she had ever even learned it, but she knew all sorts of other things about him.

The fact that maybe she could use him somehow didn't occur to her until much later. Jinx was a decent mechanic and knew how to keep her own guns in their best condition, but upgrading them (beyond their personalities) and making _new_ ones was always beyond her comprehension. There were countless scientists in Zaun who would most likely be willing to help her for a price. Money was not a problem for her, but she didn't want any of the Zaunite inventors. She wanted one of Piltover's own—and she thought she knew exactly how to bring him to her.

At first, she considered just _taking_ him. She had his schedule just about memorized, and she knew when he slept, when he was home, when he worked. But whether or not she could actually get a hold of him, especially in a fight—she didn't have all that much physical strength on her side, and he looked like a fairly toned guy—and especially when he had the home field advantage.

So she resolved to lure him to her. He was definitely smart enough to find her if he had reason to. Realistically, she wasn't tucked too far away for anyone to find her, but from what Jinx knew, Hat Lady always made sure that Vi didn't up and leave the city in search of her. Besides, if Vi came to her, Jinx would blow her to bits—even if that meant the end of her fun taunting Vi as a sport.

Jinx watched and rewatched the construction of his bigger machines, figuring out how to take them apart and put them back together just as he had. After that, it was pretty easy to get in. Her little-used underground tunnel to Piltover, originally used and abandoned decades ago by the Zaunite government in case they chose to declare war on the City of Progress or in case they needed to evacuate (the project had been cancelled when the sixth construction worker was killed by a collapse in the tunnel), got her there in good time. The sewer the tunnel led into—with the entrance to the tunnel itself hidden behind a nondescript panel—had a manhole leading out conveniently right behind the lab.

From there, she pressed the button and waited for the missile to arrive from her own home. Her seldom-used signal jammer had been put into place right after she had launched the missile, just in case someone tried to deploy the sentry bots that Jinx normally very much liked to shoot down. She didn't have that kind of time now. With the sirens on, the people who lived near the laboratory stayed in their homes, fearful that they would be nuked any second. Any other day, Jinx probably would have confirmed their fears just to see the pretty explosions.

She took the small things first—the littler inventions and even the tools that she could just push down the manhole—and then started taking the bigger machines apart, collapsing them so they were small enough to drop down as well. She made very good time, all things considered, and made sure to leave a quick signature for both Vi and the pretty boy before dropping down into the sewer herself, closing it behind her and loading the machines up into the big tram that was intended to run back and forth through the tunnels, carrying Zaunite government officials and nobles in case of emergency. She usually preferred to launch her attacks in much flashier ways, so she hadn't used the underground tram in a long time. Besides, if Vi found it, she'd be at risk of getting caught.

After that it was a matter of waiting. She had brought the machines in and reconstructed the ones she had taken apart, keeping them nice and safe in her own little arsenal of weapons, locked up in its own safe. She watched the aftermath on the little television, catching her own little glimpse of Fat Hands and Hat Lady in the laboratory for the first time. Vi looked irate, the same way she always did.

Somehow, everything worked out perfectly. When he took his silly little hammer and marched out of his workshop, a look of conviction and anger on his face, she didn't see him again for a long time.

So she sat on the roof and waited, perched on the missile launcher she sometimes used to send smaller projectiles into Piltover. She had bigger weapons for bigger attacks, but this one was good for being a thorn in the side of Piltover's law enforcement without launching full-on attacks like she would do whenever she felt life wasn't _fun_ enough.

The next visitor to her fortress of chaos and kickassery was an unfortunately familiar purple box-with-wheels that usually carried little girls wearing whore makeup. The last time she had seen it, they had issued to her a _formal_ invitation to help them in exchange for money. Jinx didn't need money and it sounded like they were looking for some kind of sweet-talking thief—two things Jinx was not. Even when she told them they had the wrong kind of criminal, they suggested that maybe she work in one of their brothels ("Your type is suited to many of our clients," they had told her, as if she was supposed to be flattered). She had informed them, rather politely, that she would blow their pretty heads off if they ever tried to bother her again. They had sent her a letter later on informing Jinx of their location, in case she changed her mind.

That was when she decided to mail the bomb that was set to detonate the second anyone cut a wire—and she had put the thin little wire taut against the top of the box, so when they went to open it, the thing would burst in their face. This was made acceptable by the fact that she had been so thoughtful as to insulate the bomb in glitter, leaving a pretty mess for the members of their stupid cult to clean up. Glitter never came out completely, and now they had something to remember her by.

Really, the strangest part was that their little streetcar was speeding along much faster than the gentle little amble she normally saw it going at. Jinx was fairly certain she saw something tumble out of the side of the car, but she didn't pay it any attention. After all, she had a promise to keep.

She didn't bother aiming at all, since the explosive radius of the missile would annihilate the car and just about anything that had the audacity to be near it. She burst into giggles the second the thing blew up, a magnificent display of color and sound, leaving nothing behind but useless bits of smoking metal. Anyone who was alive in there had been charred instantly.

After watching the explosion, she jumped to her feet on top of the launcher, pumping her fist into the air victoriously. "For the last time, I don't want to join your stupid cult!" she screamed at the burning remains of the messenger that had probably been sent to recruit her before bursting into laughter again, dropping back down to her ass on the launcher before sliding off.

Carefully, she scanned the landscape for whatever it was that had come tumbling out of the carriage shortly before she had blown it to bits, reaching down to pick up Fishbones, shouldering him. She almost fired indiscriminately at whatever was out there, but her eyes picked up a familiar spark she had seen quite a few times in the past few days.

Pretty boy's weapon, bursting with electricity, was there in the distance, and she could see the outline of the man holding it through the polluted smog and dust that obscured Zaun and everything around it. What the hell, was he working for the crazy poor people slavers that lived in the city now? Despite herself, she cracked a grin, planting one hand on her hip and appreciating the fact that her little plan had worked out so flawlessly. She didn't know if he could see her, since his eyes probably hadn't adjusted to examining things at a distance in the shitty atmosphere of Zaun, especially at night. Either way, she raised her hand and wiggled her fingers at him before turning around and dashing inside, taking the stairs as fast as possible all the way to the ground floor.

She was winded by the time she got to the bottom and regretting that she was still putting off installing a slide to make coming down from the top floor a lot more fun (and making going up from the bottom floor a lot more difficult). There was a semi-operable elevator in the building, but it was only usable when it was occupied to ascend. If anyone tried to stand in it and tell it to descend floors, it would crash to the ground floor and usually wound its occupants. Jinx had taken to ignoring it.

The front door lead into a dark, cluttered hallway that most people would probably assume belonged to an abandoned office building. It had, in fact, previously been a Zaunite law office for those brought in on things like overpollution and malpractice, but since those who were charged often had the money to pay off the city itself instead of hiring a lawyer, the firm had gone out of business.

Jinx waited at the back of the hallway, her hand wrapped around a gold length of rope, ready to pull it the second the pretty boy walked through the door. She didn't know if that would work, considering how smart she knew he was. But the easiest way to trick smart people, Jinx had noticed, was with extremely simple plans.

The door burst open, off its hinges, and flew inside, landing just short of her. She saw the electrically charged end of his hammer, although it looked like it was presently being wielded as some sort of gun or cannon. That was impressive.

His figure was outlined by the moonlight behind him, and as he stepped through the threshold, weapon in hands, Jinx yanked on the rope.

The purple gas released from the aerosol container it had been kept in, flooding the hallway right near his head. He wavered, confused, and Jinx grinned at him. The gas gravitated toward the outside air, and Hammer Boy staggered forward a few steps toward her before falling to his knees, dropping the hammer from trembling hands. Jinx let go of the cord, waiting another few seconds for the gas to finish dispersing before walking up to him.

She planted her hands on her knees, bending down to grin at him, scrutinizing his face. Well, she had known there was a reason why she called him a pretty boy. Up close, the name was even more appropriate. Tiredness was sketched into lines under his eyes, and Jinx figured he had probably been worn out even before he had arrived. What the hell was he going to do even if she hadn't gassed him right away? _Yawn _at him? He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to make words happen. The best he was able to do was mumble and slur almost unintelligibly. "G-Give me the..."

Jinx cut him off with a snicker, poking him on the forehead when she was sure he wouldn't be able to rip her arm off for doing so. "Or else what? You'll sleep on me?" Whether or not he heard her childish taunt wasn't entirely clear, since he didn't respond or even have the energy to look annoyed. His eyes rolled up and he fell forward, crashing into her legs.

* * *

**A/N:** ...is that too creepy? That feels too creepy. Anyway, there's Jinx's little box of crazy. I had a couple of ideas for how I was gonna get Jinx involved, but I feel like being a creepy little voyeur is right down her alley. Maybe not. Anyway, I wanted to mention that I'm not involving the Institute of War in this story (at least, I don't plan on it), just because I can't really work it in and Rito Pls., Incorporated is retconning it anyway (which sucks, I know). Anyway, another chapter will most likely be up tomorrow or Friday!


	5. Chained

The soreness seeping through his muscles was the first thing that registered to Jayce when he started to wake up. He felt like he had been pushed down several flights of stairs and then dragged right back up. The dull, throbbing pain was the only thing that was able to seep into his consciousness through the dark fog of dreamless sleep. What had first registered as an ache through his body suddenly thrummed through his head, jolting him awake as if he had been shot in the forehead with a pebble fired from a slingshot.

For a long minute, Jayce decided to just lie still, able to tell there was light beyond his eyelids but not much else. Maybe he was outside? If he was outside, he was not in Zaun, he noted with relief. The air didn't smell toxic in here. It smelled more like some strange amalgam of motor oil and something else Jayce couldn't quite identify. It smelled saccharine. Either way, it wasn't entirely unpleasant.

With his head swimming, it was really hard to remember exactly what had happened. He could remember Kitty, the demented, awkward teenager with whom he had ridden to Zaun, trying desperately to come onto him, but anything that had happened after that was retained in his memory as a collection of loud noises and bright flashes of color. The question of where exactly he had ended up remained a mystery. He explicitly trusted himself not to do anything regrettable, especially not with a teenager, but the longer he chose to lay there, letting his eyes rest, the less sure of himself he became.

His eyes opened, and shut just as quickly. The light hanging from the ceiling, although not too bright, was not too pleasant to look at and caused his headache to pulse painfully. Jayce lifted an arm over his eyes to shield them from the intrusive light, opening them once more. He blinked the sleep out of them and raised just his head, finding an unfamiliar weight on his midsection that he didn't quite have the energy to toss off just by sitting up.

Despite himself, he groaned, waiting for his eyes to adjust so he could see what was weighing him down. Just as his eyes adjusted to the cold light of the room, falling on the pale, tattooed midriff of just the person he had been looking for, he heard her laugh, all too amused by his discomfort. He moved his arm out of the way now that his eyes were adjusted, and saw her sitting there on his torso, legs crossed as she shoveled spoonfuls of what looked like colorful cereal into her mouth.

"What are y...?" The question tapered off in the middle as he groaned again, his eyes falling shut once more. The sound of his own voice rang in his ears like a fire alarm, causing pain to thrum through his head again. Although he doubted both her willingness and her psychological capacity to answer any of his questions truthfully, he pressed on, deciding he could muster three syllables at the most. "What the fuck?"

Those were not the syllables he had been planning on saying and they certainly weren't the most helpful ones he had come up with. He certainly wasn't predisposed to saying _that_. Then again, he didn't often wake up in a strange place with a psychopathic criminal literally sitting on his chest.

"Hey!" he heard her snap, sounding almost offended. "You came _here_. I'm just trying to be a good host! I don't get houseguests often. Mostly because they usually get blown up, and it is _fantastic_."

Jayce didn't question why he in particular had not gotten blown up. Even if she had not seen him until he was standing there just outside her house, she had a million chances to reduce him to a bloody mess of gore and viscera. Why she had not done that was far too much for him to consider right now, considering he could barely speak without his splitting headache punishing him for doing so.

He didn't answer her, keeping his eyes closed and trying to drown out the pain. To his chagrin, Jinx didn't seem to be having any of that. "You're the guy I took all the stuff from, right? With your silly little hammer and your... and your... and your _face_." Again, he didn't respond, and she paused to lift the bowl she was eating out of to her lips so she could drink from it, judging from the slurping noises she was making. Her ability to act like she _wasn't_ sitting on her conversational partner was astonishing.

Even more astonishing was the fact that she seemed to be entirely unarmed, and more casual about holding him captive (just by sitting on him) than she really should have been. But it seemed she knew why he was here, and he hurt too bad to immediately start thinking of some way to get his things back and return to Piltover in one piece—and preferably not as chunks in a box on Vi's doorstep.

"You're really heavy," she commented casually, her mouth full. She took a second to swallow the last of whatever it was she had been eating. He heard a clatter as she threw the bowl to the ground, leaving it where it fell. "I tried to put you in the elevator, but your fat ass made it break, probably because you weigh nine hundred pounds. And so the whole thing crashed _right_ back down again so I had to drag you up the stairs. Guess how long it took me. Just guess."

She didn't wait for him to guess, which was convenient because he hadn't planned on shouting out numbers.

"_Three hours_. Think about that! It was like carrying a bag of hammers up the stairs, except the hammers probably would have been better at keeping up a conversation." She was doing wonders for his self-esteem. At least that explained the amount of pain he was in.

Taking a few deep breaths, he sat up, spilling her slight frame backwards onto his legs instead. He ignored her as she swore, writhing around to get upright again and slipping over the edge of the surface onto the ground. She swore again as he propped himself up with one hand, using the other to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Now that he looked around, it was apparent that she had put him on... the kitchen table? For a moment, Jayce wondered genuinely if she had been planning on eating him—he figured probably not, although that didn't seem like too far of a stretch. He had heard stories of cannibals living in Zaun, but _that _definitely seemed like an urban legend made up to scare kids away from the city-state.

"Listen," he stated firmly, and he was almost astonished when she didn't cut him off right there. "What did you do with all my things?"

She popped up from the ground, crossing her arms like a sullen teenager. "They're _fine_, if that's what you're asking. Not sure what the whole thing is with you people and never asking a direct question. You people in Piltover always all like, 'Why are you blowing up all our schools?' and 'Why can't I get my wife off when she's thinking of Jinx?'" She waved her hands around, stepping over a long chain to get to the refrigerator. Even from where Jayce was sitting, he could see it was pretty barren.

_Wait..._

_Oh, of _course_ she did._

The thick chain she had stepped over was spray painted pink. One end lead out the door and to the left, into the hallway. The other end, as it happened, was attached to his ankle. _What am I, a dog?_ Jinx slammed the door of the fridge, instead striding back over to him and hefting herself up onto the counter across from where he still sat on the kitchen table. "Anyway, in case your dumb brain hasn't figured it out by now, I made you come here. And you totally _did_, which is kind of a surprise, not really. You Piltover people can't get enough of me."

"Us _Piltover people_ had enough of you the first time we saw you," he answered, narrowing his eyes at her. "What do you want from me?" The thought had occurred that maybe she was working with any of the huge number of people in Zaun who would probably pay a lot of money to have him dead or captured—both of which were highly viable options for her right now.

"Whoa, you don't have to be such a dick about it," she defended, holding her hands up. "Sorry for calling your brain dumb. Maybe your brain's not dumb. But the other parts of you are dumb. Your jawline, for instance. But we're not talking about your jawline."

Jayce's patience was deteriorating quickly, and he was slowly beginning to regret coming after her at all. He was getting a much better understanding of Vi's distaste for the criminal than he ever would have wanted. He repeated himself slowly. "What. Do. You—"

"I want your help."

What was it with psychopaths asking for _his_ help in particular lately? Jayce felt particularly unlucky even thinking about it. That was the punishment he got for leaving Piltover at all.

"Forget it," he stated, nearly before she had even finished speaking. "I'm not going to help you destroy Piltover." He briefly considered tacking on a "you crazy bitch" to the end for emphasis, but he wasn't Vi, and regardless of what he thought about her, she did have him chained. Literally. Besides, it was rarely in his nature to be vulgar, and he doubted that cursing at Jinx would faze her anyway.

"Hey, pretty boy, I'm not the one whose little toys are all locked up," she shrugged, swinging one long blue braid around absently. "I don't have any use for 'em, but they might make good target practice." Jayce glared at her. "Ooh! Or better yet, I bet there are some buyers in town who would be _thrilled_ to have something from the hands of, uh... _you_."

Really, the idea of her blowing them up was a lot less distressing than the idea of her selling them off to Zaunite scientists who would break down _his_ creations and mangle them so that they were usable for the disgusting violations of rights that _those_ sorts of inventors were known for. Too many of his things getting into the wrong hands could bide worse for him and for Piltover than anything Jinx could or would do.

The criminal holding him captive was destructive, but Caitlyn had mentioned several times that it was only a matter of time before Jinx got bored with Piltover and moved onto another city-state—like Demacia. Jayce could only dream of what the control freaks in Demacia might do if they found out someone who was not a Noxian was actively making trouble in their glorious territory. Piltover was not renowned for its military force the way Demacia was.

Still, even the idea of helping Jinx do much of anything, knowing that she was going to use whatever he gave her against Piltover, made him feel sick to his stomach. Even more, he doubted many Piltovians would be sympathetic if it got out that he had helped her in any way, even under duress and even when the other option was even worse for the City of Progress in the long-run.

Jinx seemed to notice that he was struggling and snickered. "Come _on_, what do you really think I'm gonna do with all that sweet destructive power? I mean, those guys in Zaun will probably find some way to nuke the whole city, and where's the fun in that? I mean, there's no fun in just leveling the place. Then there's no one to piss off or chaos to ensue."

She wasn't making a very solid argument beyond the idea that the Zaunites would find a way to raze the entire city. The sheer fact that _Jinx_ was agreeing that would be too much in terms of destruction spoke volumes about Zaun.

For a long moment, Jayce didn't answer her, still deliberating over what would be better for Piltover. The future was so much more important than right now—and in the long run, Jinx was just a little black stain on the history of the City of Progress, whereas a Zaunite invasion would spill the whole inkpot. He swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact in lieu of staring at the chain leading out the door.

"...what sort of help are you looking for?"

With an excited cackle and a short little clap of her hands, Jinx jumped down from the counter, leaving the room before realizing she had not told him to follow. She beckoned him, bouncing around as if they were in a huge rush. He was hesitant to get up off the table, still dizzy in a very significant way. His legs ached, and he had very little doubt that he was covered in bruises after being dragged, unconscious, up a flight of stairs over the course of several hours (if Jinx was telling the truth about how she had transported him).

The chain clattered against the ground as he moved, giving constant reminders that just walking away and maybe coming up with a comprehensive plan before trying to bulldoze the place was not an option. It was strange getting a look into the life of a criminal who was so clearly unhinged. The building seemed dark on the inside, since most of the lights seemed like they were dying. It was cluttered, as he would have expected, and if there was some sort of method to the organization in all of the rooms he could see into, it wasn't anything he could understand.

He tried not to pay attention to the constant, disconcerting ringing of the chain sliding against the wooden floors and instead chose to examine Jinx. Although Vi regularly called her "scrawny" and "little," he had not expected her to look so delicate. He had at _least_ a foot of height on her, if not a little more. Even more, she looked like she would snap like a toothpick if someone grabbed her too roughly—which was saying a lot for a maniac who got off on explosions. It was a wonder Vi hadn't broken her in half already.

Jinx turned into a room at the end of the hall. The chain lead into this room and was attached to a little hook on the ceiling. He looked at it for a moment, trying to figure out if he could reasonably get the fixture off the wall before she spoke.

She was bent over, the top half of her disappearing into what looked like a supply closet of some sort. Jayce took this time to scrutinize the room. It was a long, narrow room, split in halves by a bed covered in stuffed animals and pillows. There was a single blanket left in a pile next to the bed. If he had to guess, he would say she was a pretty wild sleeper and shoved it over the edge in a fit. The thought of her sleeping at all made her seem a little too _human_ for his tastes.

Across from the bed were a ton of monitors stacked on top of each other, all piled on top of a white vanity decorated with little hand-painted chrysanthemums. Most of the monitors were dark or showed static—there were nine in total. Three were still visibly in operation. The first he looked at was on the street right outside Piltover Customs. The cameras were live, as evidenced by the fact that he could see Corki, its yordle owner, outside talking to a human customer, wrench in hand. The footage offered no sound, so he couldn't eavesdrop on the conversation (he immediately felt guilty for even thinking of listening in on someone's conversation).

Another, settled in bottom left, looked up at the library. Scholars bustled in and out of the huge building in their early morning rush before they had to get to work or to class. Jayce looked over at Jinx again, unsure whether or not she would be irritated that he was snooping. She looked busy.

The last monitor was hard to see. There was a long stripe of yellow light that faded into darkness. It only took him a second to process that he recognized the place: it was his own laboratory. The sunshine still filtered in through the uncovered hole in the ceiling. The camera was at an angle above the door, where his desk and work area was available. He could see the smashed pile of rubble where his bed had once been.

She had been watching him.

Jayce felt sick. Jinx had violated his privacy, and the worst part was that he didn't know how _long_ she had been watching him. He stared at the monitor, setting his jaw, feeling anger and irritation sparking up inside him. While he was working, while he was _sleeping_, while he was doing anything... There was a possibility that she had been sitting on her bed, watching him, scrutinizing every move he made. Despite himself, he was embarrassed. Jinx hadn't mentioned him doing anything strange, but he couldn't help but think back through every single thing he had done, every mistake he had made, and feel mortified that _she_ might have seen.

"How long has... When did this start?" he asked quietly. _"How long have you been watching me?"_ didn't seem like an appropriate question, and it definitely sounded to him much more self-involved than he wanted to seem. But the camera focused in his home and laboratory, where he spent most of his time, was the only monitor that was showing anything with even the possibility of being intrusive. Everything else was in a public forum, where someone could sit on a bench and people-watch without even being branded as suspicious.

In his peripheral vision, he saw her pop up, straightening out right away to see what he was looking at. She was holding a little pistol against her stomach. After a moment, she snickered. "I dunno. A while ago. You don't really know a guy until you know his schedule for whackin' it." Jayce felt equal parts irritation and humiliation. "I'll give you some alone time on Thursday around seven. I know it's pretty hard to break routine for you Piltovians. All about _schedules_." She laughed again.

"You're disgusting," he stated. The firmness and irritation that seeped into his voice did not reflect the shame and distress he actually felt.

She shrugged, examining the little pistol she now held. "I prefer _crazy_. But shut up and look at this pistol I found."

Jinx took a few long strides so she could drop down onto the bed, her legs crossed as she held the gun out to him, patting the bed to get him to sit next to her. He glared at her for a few moments, electing to stay on his feet, before taking it, turning it over a few times in his hands. It was shoddily made and likely to misfire, but it was powerful. He didn't see these kinds of guns very often, especially since Noxians were often more dependent on weapons that took physical and martial prowess. Jayce didn't use guns, but he knew what the technology from all the different city-states was like. It seemed him like Jinx was trying to find a design for a new gun—although, he had to admit, these little pistols definitely seemed a little bit tame for her.

"Where's it from?"

"It's Noxian. It's also garbage and will probably blow your hand off if you fire it more than a few times." He tossed it aside and she ignored it, going back to the closet and returning with an armful of guns and expectations.

* * *

**A/N:** Holy shit Jinx is harder to write in character than I expected and I don't know if I'm writing her crazy enough (I'm reading everywhere on her lore and on what Riot said about her on the forums and on reddit). I wrote this chapter over the course of a few days that involved a lot of long breaks (read: playing URF and doing like 3 paragraphs during loading screens). Hopefully I'll have another chapter up before the weekend is over. The fic is probably only gonna run about 20 chapters, maybe more or less? I don't know, I'm not reliable. Also, I don't know how many times I'm going to talk about Jayce's masturbatory habits but I feel like I'm not done.


	6. Local Celebrity's Club

Despite her best efforts to stump him completely, Hammer Boy and his brain full of knowledge had at least an educated guess for everything she showed him out of her collection, ranging widely from guns all the way to different kinds of guns. Everything she handed him he would turn over and inspect closely, examining little parts that often looked all the same to Jinx, before stating where he thought it was from—and usually, he was pretty damn close to wherever Jinx had originally found the gun (or whatever merchant she had picked it up from).

Of course, there was (for once in her life) a _reason_ she was weighing him down with unloaded weapons, expecting him to tell her their origins and sometimes even design quirks or other oddities about the guns. She had decided long before she had lured him to her that she wanted to use him to her own advantage, to make something great for herself. Seeing his knowledge in action was certainly exciting (even if the information itself was pretty boring), but she hadn't decided exactly what she wanted him to do for her yet, and finding out how much he knew was an almost productive way of buying herself time to think.

After she admitted to herself she was out of things to test him on, Jinx sat him down at the single table at the end of her bedroom where she would usually tune up her guns as well as she could before running back out and finding her own precious (and silent) best friend, Pow-Pow. Unlike Fishbones, Pow-Pow was not constantly trying to get Jinx to make better choices in life and settle down and find a husband and cut her hair. The minigun was less judgmental about her lifestyle and was usually happy to shred through hordes of sentry bots for her. It hadn't been working like it usually was, though, and although she was sure that with enough time and patience she could fix it, she wanted to see _him_ fix it.

She thunked it down on the table in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, looking up at her with one eyebrow arched upward in confusion. Whether that was because he didn't know what she wanted from him or because of the bunny ears she had attached to the minigun was unclear. Twisting her body around a few times, swiveling around the room, she nabbed a tacky green lawnchair from right outside the door and pulled it up to sit across from him.

After pulling her legs up so she could crisscross them, she gave the big violet gun an appreciative pat. "So this is Pow-Pow. He's my boyfriend."

He glared at her from across the table, clearly not in the mood for her fucking around. Jinx had noticed he had been in a special kind of sour mood after finding out she had been watching him. Then again, he probably wouldn't have been laughing with her even if he hadn't ever found that out. She did have him chained to the wall, after all.

"I think he's sick. See, sometimes when I use him, he makes this really gross noise, like—" she made a grinding noise in the back of her throat. "It's really weird. I dunno if something is _stuck_ or what, but it's really bothering me. Pow-Pow is a delicate soul, you know."

Almost incredulously, he stared at her. "You made me come here... to fix _this_?" He looked almost offended that she would be abusing his genius so horribly.

Jinx snorted with laughter and then shook her head. "No, _stupid_. I could fix it myself, if I wanted to. But I might as well have you do it, while you're here, 'cause you're probably faster at it. You can probably make him shoot better than he ever has."

She pointed at a huge crate right behind him, filled to the brim with an assortment of tools and other random, colorful things. He eyed her skeptically for a long moment, as if something was going to jump out of the crate and bite him, but he hunched over to examine the gun nonetheless, clearly trying to get a feel for its mechanisms, what made it work and what could be wrong with it.

Jinx was almost sort of surprised that he didn't bitch and moan at all about having to work. She had half-expected him to complain a lot, and she wondered if she might have preferred that. But he didn't complain at all, only glared a whole lot whenever she talked. He seemed pretty big on only speaking when spoken to, but Jinx figured that was to minimize his necessary communication with her.

Both of out of fascination with the way he worked and a desire to irritate him, she stayed right where she was, watching him turn Pow-Pow over, looking at every part of the gun he could. Even watching him figure things out the way he did was sort of mesmerizing in a probably creepy way. She thought she liked his hands, the way they would turn the minigun this way and that, sometimes extending a gloved finger to pull or push at some smaller part to see if it was movable or not. He ignored her intently, acting as if he was alone, eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

He turned around to rummage through the mess of tools and other things in the crate behind him, setting things on the table as he picked them out. Strangely, he picked out a lot of things that she probably wouldn't have thought to use. Then again, she was pretty simple when it came to fixing her own guns. While it would have been pretty entertaining to have one blow up on her, she didn't prefer to break the few guns she actually valued and would often exercise caution when taking them apart, as she seldom did in other aspects of her life.

"Hey," she interjected suddenly. The silence was driving her even more insane, and she had a lot of things to ask him with only so much time to find things for him to do. Why she felt obligated to find reasons to keep him around longer was beyond her. "I got a question for you, pretty boy."

The only hint he gave that he had even heard her speak at all was a short glance up her, his eyes moving up to her for only a second before going back to his work taking Pow-Pow apart. He didn't answer her. She hadn't expected him to, given that he had been finding reasons to cold shoulder her the entire time he had been here. As if she could blame him.

"What's your name?" Unexpectedly, he laughed at that, only for a moment before he realized he was supposed to be acting all angry around her. Jinx didn't really know what about that he had found so funny. Of all the hilarious things she had said to him, he really chose to laugh just at the _least_ funny thing she said? She stared at him, totally serious.

"You're telling me you were watching me for who knows how long, you broke into my lab, you took all my things, and you trapped me here... and you don't even know who I am? You're kidding, right?" Jinx thought he sounded a lot less cold then, but she wasn't sure if that was just because the arrogance was covering it up.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Well, I'm sorry I don't really get to know everyone whose house I blow up on a _personal_ level. I don't have to go door-to-door introducing myself like some politician, do I?" Jinx was well aware that maybe that wasn't the best qualifier. She also didn't watch for hours and hours on end everyone whose house she would blow up.

For a moment, he stopped working so he could eye her, trying to determine if she was fucking with him or not. "You know, I bet you there's not a single person in Zaun that doesn't know my name."

She grinned at him, narrowing her eyes. "Sounds like you're trying to impress me, but I'm not that dazzled. There's not a single person in Piltover that doesn't know my name, and _I've_ heard of me, which is definitely the most important part. Ask anyone in Piltover about Jinx and they'll probably cry, you included. Or so I like to imagine at night."

Seeming almost resigned to his fate, he got back to work pulling the gun apart. Jinx almost protested that he had not answered her question, but he spoke just before she managed to start bitching about it. "Jayce."

The name rang a bell, but she wasn't sure where or when she had heard it. "I guess it fits you. It's kind of a high and mighty sounding name. Were you an asshole in school? I can imagine a Jayce being an asshole in school."

He went back to giving her the cold shoulder and she huffed irritably, resting her head in her hands as she watched him work. Occasionally he would stop to quickly inspect something, probably for his own benefit and understanding. Jinx didn't think he would intentionally hurt Pow-Pow just to sabotage her, although she wasn't beyond making _him_ use the gun first if she thought something might be awry with it. So far, though, as she watched him looking for the flaw in the gun, he really did seem like the honest golden boy that Piltover seemed to value so much.

It didn't take long for him to extract the chewed-up bullet that had somehow gotten caught in one of the mechanisms, and it took even less time for him to put the gun back together, making sure the moving parts still moved and that the stationary parts were as stationary as they were supposed to be.

"There," he stated, looking at her intently. "It should work fine now."

"Great! That was fast." She clapped her hands, looking at the clock behind him. The clock, as far as she knew, ran about an hour and a half behind, and the clock read that it was six. She got to her feet, hefting Pow-Pow up into her hands so she could relocate him to her bedside where she normally preferred to keep him. Jinx laced her fingers together and pressed her palms up toward the ceiling, hearing her spine pop as she did so. "Are you hungry? I'm dying."

"I have a question."

"Oh, _now_ you wanna talk," she drawled. He was following behind her, but she was almost positive he was rolling his eyes at her. "The answer is _yes, fine_, I'll marry you, as long as Vi is your best man. I've had like three people ask me just this week."

Behind her, Jayce huffed in irritation. "Where did you get that minigun? It looks like hextech, like something that would be made in Piltover, but we don't... We don't make things like that."

"Fine, fine, how about this: where do _you_ think I got it?" She looked over her shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at him. He shrugged, scratching the back of his head. He probably thought she was trying to trick him somehow, as if the wrong answer would offend her and she would have him strung up in the basement to rot. Even if it did offend her, that was hardly the method she would use to kill _anyone_.

"I don't know," he sighed, leaning against the door frame as Jinx strolled into the kitchen he had woken up in. She started going through cabinets and cupboards, looking for something to eat.

This time, she didn't answer him. Jinx didn't plan on giving him an answer unless he gave her one first. Where he thought she had gotten her precious gun would probably speak volumes of what he thought about her.

"If I had to guess," he started, sounding strangely conversational, "I'd say you got it from a Zaunite dealer. Maybe some... ex-Piltovian engineer?"

She snorted, dismissively waving a hand at him as she bent down to look through the space under the sink. "No way. The kind of love I have for Pow-Pow and Fishbones isn't something you can _buy_, pretty boy. Despite Fishbones' disappointing need for _stability_."

Jayce eyed her apprehensively, not moving out of his spot in the doorway, as if he was going to end up unconscious on the kitchen table if he moved too far in. "What do you mean?"

"Yeah, for a rocket launcher, Fishbones is really big on responsi—" He gave her a dirty look. "Oh, the _other_ thing. I didn't think you'd guess, and you didn't! I didn't buy my guns. Or even steal them, for that matter. Because if you steal or even buy a gun, someone can come and take it back and say it's theirs, if they really want to. That's why I made my shooty babies. No one can ever say they're theirs, 'cause I designed them and I put them together all by myself."

For a moment, Jayce looked impressed, but quickly it turned into disbelief. "You designed a minigun and a rocket launcher based on Piltover hextech? _You_?"

She shrugged, slamming a cupboard and opening the fridge, sitting on the floor as she looked into it. "Don't sound so surprised. You might hurt my feelings." Jinx reached into the fridge and pulled out a clear tray, atop which sat most of a huge chocolate cake. She got to her feet, kicked the refrigerator door shut, and set the cake down on the table. "I have a semi-functioning brain somewhere in there, believe it or not. Well, in my head. Not in the fridge. Whatever, maybe both."

Jayce shook his head, and Jinx could feel his eyes on her as she wandered around the kitchen, yanking open a few drawers before she found a couple of clean forks in one. She sat down in a chair next to the table that resembled a hand and dug into the cake, not bothering to cut any of it off.

After shoveling a few bites into her mouth, she held the other fork out to him. He didn't move, instead opting to look at her like she had two heads. "Your loss," she said through a mouthful of cake. "It's only a little poisoned. I know because I made it myself."

"Didn't have you figured for much of a baker. Or an eater." Whether or not he was poking fun at her spindly physique wasn't entirely clear, but she opted not to be offended. Jinx had long since come to terms with the fact that she wasn't going to be buxom or tall, and had embraced her unique, unimpressive figure sometime in her late teens. There was a niche market for scrawny and certifiably insane, but despite Fishbones' insistence that she settle down with someone, she was not too keen on finding the creep who would be into her.

"I forget to eat. Sometimes for days," she answered in earnest, even though he probably wasn't looking for an answer. "I get told a lot that I should probably literally be dead. Mostly by Fishbones, who's always like 'Buy some vegetables!' and 'Eat more protein!' and other annoying stuff. But all the protein and vegetables they sell in town looks like it'll wake up on your plate."

Jayce snorted quietly. So poking fun at Zaun was the key to getting reactions out of him. That wasn't surprising, considering most of Piltover thought they were lightyears above those filthy savages that lived in Zaun. Zaun, in return, felt they were lightyears above those silly prudes that lived in Piltover. He had mentioned earlier, though, that he was some kind of local celebrity in Zaun, although he hadn't mentioned exactly why.

"So why does everyone in Zaun know who you are again? Is it like a good kind of know, like you're in all the dirty magazines, or a bad kind of know, like you're in all the dirty magazines?" she asked, still taking chunks out of the cake. Finally giving up, he stalked over and sat adjacent to her at the table. He didn't eat.

"You live pretty close to there, and you've never heard about the crazy Piltovian that stormed and destroyed Viktor's lab alone?" Jinx tried to imagine him, the paragon of Piltover, doing something rash and chaotic like performing a one-man siege on a well-known scientist's laboratory. She couldn't envision it, but she felt what little respect she had for Jayce nudge up just slightly at the thought of it.

"Oh, you mean the robot guy who talks like some kind of villain? With the creepy hand?" She made a claw with her own hand and perched it above her shoulder to mimic Viktor's. Jayce nodded. "No, I never heard about that. Sounds pretty badass, though. Not as badass as the girl that stormed and destroyed Piltover alone more than once, though. I hear she's a crazy bitch."

He scowled, as if he had forgotten whose company he was in. "The difference is I did it for a reason. Not for _fun_."

"You're making it sound less badass by the second. Don't tell me any more, because I kind of want to think you're at least kind of cool." She lifted more of the chocolate cake into her mouth, but didn't bother to stop talking. "I'm not the kind of girl who'll watch just anyone without their knowledge for days on end. How do you live when Piltover girls are so boring? I'm surprised I don't have a harem in the basement. As far as you know."

"Piltover girls aren't insane," he pointed out and Jinx raised an eyebrow, unsatisfied with his answer. "Piltover girls have a _lot_ that you don't have, for that matter."

It took Jinx a few confused blinks to figure out what he was referring to. "Well, it's better than having to fight gravity to keep my spine straight!" she chided proudly. "Those are some nasty words to say to someone who's seen you masturbate."

He nodded blithely as he picked up the fork she had left in front of him and picked at the cake, taking the smallest of bites, as if he was tasting to see if she had actually poisoned it. She sat gloomily with her arms crossed. Considering he wasn't going to bicker with her, the victory certainly felt hollow. "Come back into the other room at some point if you're not gonna be a dick about it. I have something else I need you to do for me."

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter feels sort of scattered to me, just because I wrote it (no kidding) a tiny little bit at a time. Next chapter is probably going to be a little strange, if I write it the way I actually have it planned (which is a joke because I never write things the way I plan, ever ever).

In other news, your very kind reviews have been very much appreciated! Next chapter will be done within the year (no but really, by Friday or Saturday at the very latest).


	7. Heart Failure and Other Blessings

"Who the hell are you trying to impress, kid? They know the kind of people that come from your family." The old man belched loudly before beginning to hack and wheeze. His great-nephew, who sat hunched over at the kitchen table, gave no indication that he had even heard the jeer that came from the overstuffed man in the overstuffed green chair in the living room. "Your father was a filthy fucking degenerate and your mother was a whore for letting him knock her up. Piltover doesn't want you. I can't wait to finally get rid of you."

"Agreed," muttered Jayce bitterly under his breath as he continued to screw and bolt metal parts together. The old man, hard of hearing as ever, didn't catch his response. It wasn't like the geriatric had much to put behind his words. He would rant and threaten Jayce with violence, but there was no way he would be able to even heft himself out of the chair he jammed himself in day in and day out before the kid was out the door and down the street. The only time he left the stupid chair was to hobble to bed at 8:30 sharp every night.

The old man, whose mustache was tinged yellow from decades of smoking expensive cigars, began to wheeze again before he began to speak. "I got a letter from the academy, by the way!" he rasped, clearing his throat again. Jayce rolled his eyes. He already knew that it wasn't true. The academy would send home reports on a bimonthly basis. He already knew his were glowing, but he doubted his great-uncle took the time to read them. "Said they know what kind of worthless person you're gonna end up being and that you shouldn't bother going back!"

Truthfully, outside the house where his great-uncle would sit, slowly becoming one with his stupid chair, Piltover was the nicest place he had ever been. They accepted him with open arms, and willingly educated him. From a young age, he had shown an astonishing understanding of the realm of engineering, as well as a promising sense of ingenuity. He loved the city and all it was, save for the 2000 square feet where his great-uncle's house sat.

It was a pretty house, but when he had first arrived six years ago, the inside did not reflect the prettiness of the outside. His great-uncle, too large and too old to move around too much, had let garbage and clutter accumulate around the house. The conditions had been barely a step above livable, and it had taken the eight-year-old months and months to clean the place out. Seeing the child toil away tirelessly in an attempt to make the house clean, the old man had decided that he had a new in-house servant and used the distraught, miserable child as labor whenever he could.

Jayce, now a day away from his fourteenth birthday, would clean up whenever he could, seeing to it that the garbage and clutter didn't have time to build up. He had both his great-uncle's inherited fortune as well as prize money from inventors' contests to live off while he was going to school. The unpleasant vitriol that constantly spilled forth from his uncle's mouth was tolerable, given the counterbalancing praise he was constantly given from his professors at school. He had a lot of friends at school and he blended well with just about everyone, but he liked to keep his distance outside the boundaries of the academy, often choosing to isolate himself for long periods of time.

His professors, when he had first enrolled in the academy at nine years old, had been informed of Jayce's circumstances. Because of his parentage and the way his early childhood had been described, they had expected a socially inept child, as if he had been raised by wolves. He had been shy at first, having been warned by his great-uncle that everyone would hate him, but the people of Piltover had been overwhelmingly kind. The only one who hated him was the only one to whom he was linked by blood, an unfortunate fact he had quickly accepted.

Working on projects and watching them come together was his favorite reprieve from the criticism. His feeble uncle could spit at him all he wanted and sneer about how he disapproved of Jayce's parents (although it was his sister that had given birth to Jayce's mother), but he couldn't deny the beauty of the things he created or the verity of the awards he would bring home from the frequent small-time contests that Piltover held to inspire innovation in younger people.

"What the hell are you doing in there?"

Jayce rolled his eyes. Regardless of what answer he gave, he was about to get bitched at for something stupid. That was always what happened when it got too quiet in the house. Honestly, he had no idea how the immobile old man even spent his days. He smoked a lot when he wasn't yelling at the only other person in the house, and sometimes even when he was. Jayce had hardly seen him pick up a book in all the years he had been living there, despite the shelves filled with books in the room next to Jayce's. "Can I wager a bet that you're about to ask me to do something for you?"

"There's a layer of dust an inch thick on everything in here! When did you last clean this place up, you ungrateful little—"

"Yesterday. I cleaned yesterday right when I got home. You watched me do it."

After another long coughing fit during which Jayce made sure the soil sampler he was working on was in a neat enough condition to be put away and saved for later, his uncle yelled out again, his voice thick with mucus in his throat. "Well, come clean it again. It's still dirty. I don't think you really cleaned it yesterday."

Deciding it wasn't worth the trouble to argue, Jayce trudged into the living room to clean again.

* * *

Jayce's eyelids were heavy, and the longer he worked, the heavier they got. He wanted little more than to just let his head drop so he could sleep for a few hours, but he wanted to finish the thing Jinx had put him to before he actually fell asleep. In all likelihood, she probably had another menial task in mind for whenever he finished this, but he wanted to finish while she was asleep so there was even a chance that she might not immediately put him to work again afterward.

His hands were beginning to cramp up, but whether that was from the tiredness or the constant work wasn't entirely clear. He probably would have been done some time ago if he hadn't spent so much time watching her sleep, and then thinking about what a creep he was for doing so—even though she had done the same to him without his knowledge.

It was disturbing to see what a delicate sleeper she was. She barely moved, and he had spent a lot of time when she had first fallen asleep to scrutinize her, trying to determine whether or not she was breathing. It didn't really help that her bed was directly across from the table where she had sat him down, so every time he looked up, she was laying there. He could only see her in the faint glow of the dim light that hung above him, so it was hard to tell much about her beyond her movement.

Just before going to bed, he had seen that she had taken her iconic braids out, leaving her hair in blue waves leading down to her ankles. There was a noticeable split in her hair where she normally braided it. He hadn't taken much notice of what she had actually been wearing, not want to look at her for too long, fearing that she might accuse him of ogling her or something equally unlikely.

Seeing her sleep, though, made him want to give in even more. Time was dragging on and his work was getting slower and slower the longer he stayed awake. He was sure the quality of his work was plummeting as well, especially since his eyes kept going out of focus and his head kept dropping as he got closer and closer to finally passing out.

Despite how stubbornly he was clinging onto consciousness, he looked at the rocket launcher she had given to him to work on and pushed it away. He wasn't all too keen on the idea of sleeping in a chair, knowing he would be sore again tomorrow from sleeping in a strange, contorted position, but he didn't really have much of a choice. He put his arms down on the table and rested his head on them. Just as soon as his eyes were shut, he was asleep.

The sleep didn't last long. It was only about fifteen minutes before he was poked hard on the shoulder once and twice and then three times before he raised his head, blinking to adjust his eyes. There stood the pink-eyed maniac that had him imprisoned with her arms crossed. She was wearing some kind of nightgown or long shirt or whatever he wasn't paying attention. He groaned, rubbing his face. "What do you want?"

"Hey, stupid guy. Go sleep over there," she demanded, pointing at her unmade bed and planting a hand on a nonexistent hip. Her hair curtained her arms, and he suddenly understood why she kept it braided all the time. It was _everywhere_. "On my bed."

He furrowed his eyebrows at her, rubbing a thumb and forefinger over his eyes. Weariness slurred his words in a pretty significant way. "...why? That seems a little hospitable of you."

She rolled her eyes dramatically, clearly not pleased with the fact that he was wary of her graciousness, as if she thought she was some kind of domestic goddess for not making him sleep in a rickety chair. "I don't want you bitching at me all day tomorrow because you slept all wrong. Also, I gave you cake yesterday. I'm basically giving you a five-star experience here, come on. Go."

Jayce was far too sleepy to question it any further. He placed his hands flat on the table and used them to push himself to a stand before trudging over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it for a moment before making the decision to take off his boots, gloves, belt, and the other more clunky parts of his outfit that he didn't care to sleep in. He stretched out, yawning as he got comfortable on her bed.

It was surprisingly comfortable, considering he had originally believed she probably slept on a bed of nails or in a pile of entrails. She seemed to have a penchant in particular for lots of overstuffed pillows, although he certainly couldn't complain. His own bed was pretty simple and small, if only to discourage himself from oversleeping. He knew if he made it too comfortable, he would be reluctant to roll out of bed each morning. He didn't dwell on the fact that his bed in Piltover had been crushed by his ceiling collapsing in and that he would have to replace it when—or _if_ he got home.

The bed was needlessly large, considering how twiggy and little Jinx was. He tried not to dwell on any more of the details of her bed, afraid he might think up something less pleasant than the aesthetics of it. Besides, he was too tired to waste time thinking about how nice the bed was. He didn't doubt that maybe this was just a cruel prank and she was going to wake him up in another fifteen minutes by jumping on the bed and laughing obnoxiously, as she often did.

Although he could feel her watching him from where she had been standing before, it didn't take long for him to get to sleep, a testament to the idea that maybe he was getting a little _too_ used to being watched.

* * *

"Jayce, I really hope I've made it perfectly clear that if you need a few days to mourn your loss... I know it can be hard to lose someone who raised you."

"I'm fine," he promised earnestly, offering a grin in response to the professor's sympathetic, disbelieving look. The man, well into his forties, looked much older than he was, with all the wrinkles and stress lines that had gotten etched on his face from years of needless fretting over small things. Professor Alston-Finley, a renowned scholar in the realm of techmaturgy, had proven an invaluable resource in Jayce's endless scramble for more to learn and create. Unfortunately, his disregard for many safety practices and other "reckless" pursuits often left Alston-Finley reeling.

Just weeks shy of his sixteenth birthday, Jayce's guardian (so he was called legally) was admitted to the Piltover Infirmary and School of Medicine after he had screamed for help because he was unable to breathe after a particularly nasty coughing fit.

Although he had never spoken a word aloud of his extreme dislike for his sole known living relative, he was surprised that it had taken so long for the old man to end up in the hospital—he had been pushing eighty and had smoked at least two cigars every single day of his life. It had been probably forty years since he had last gotten any kind of exercise at all. Jayce had warned him a few times that he would waste away sitting there on the chair doing nothing, to which his kindly great-uncle would tell him to go fuck himself.

In typical Piltover fashion, his doctor had shown up at the door personally to inform Jayce that one of his great-uncle's lungs had given out and that he likely wouldn't live long, given that combined with the state of the rest of his organs.

It had been a few weeks—Jayce had gone to see his uncle once, out of courtesy, leaving as soon as he was reprimanded for coming "even though he didn't care" (which was true, as it happened)—before he finally flatlined in his hospital bed right on Jayce's sixteenth birthday. The official cause of death was related to heart failure, although the medical report (which Jayce was told not to look at, but he did anyway) listed a lot of secondary causes that lead to his great-uncle's extremely timely demise.

Hearing that Jayce had lost his caregiver on his birthday had earned him a lot of sympathetic glances when he showed up to the academy the next day. He knew that he should have been bothered more by the loss of his only family, but every time he almost felt sad, he reminded himself—voluntarily or otherwise—that he no longer had to put up with his grandfather's constant reminders of how worthless he was and how terrible his parents had been, even though Jayce could hardly remember what they were like—he couldn't remember much from his life before he came to Piltover.

"Jayce..." the professor tutted quietly. "I know it seems important to be _manly_ and _strong_, but there are more important things. If it's bothering you, no one will be upset if you need to go home for some time alone. On your birthday, too, I can't imagine..."

He shrugged. "I'm alright. It was his time. He was an old man and he's been sick ever since I can remember. I've been getting ready for this for years." That was the truth, but it tasted like a lie. Jayce had tactfully omitted that he had been looking forward to the miserable old man's "time" for years. The constant jeering and insults had gotten tiresome by the time he was nine.

The old man's character shined through in his last will and testament, which made it expressly clear that everything was only left to his "worthless great-nephew" with great reluctance. Still, though, Jayce didn't even care. An inheritance was an inheritance, regardless of how _reluctantly_ it was done. No one had seen the will except for the attorney who had held it in his possession (and even _he_ didn't seem like he had cared too much).

In Piltover, sixteen was considered old enough for independence—barely—and Jayce certainly felt as though he was ready to be independent. For an embarrassingly long time, he had plans for the day his uncle died and left him all the money that had gone to cigars, as well as the house that stunk of them, the house that he had tirelessly cleaned for years.

He would sell off the big house after figuring out a way to get the stink of smoke out of it and he would have a lab built for him to work and live in. Jayce really didn't need or want anything too gaudy or fancy. Although he certainly felt he would deserve something big and fancy in the future when he was known as one of the greatest minds to come out of Piltover, he knew that humility was a good starting point, and keeping the expenses as small as possible was the _responsible_ thing to do—even though _responsible_ was the very last thing he wanted to be with his newfound independence.

* * *

The first thing Jayce noticed when he woke up was that there was no one sitting on him, or jumping on the bed next to him, or dumping ice cold water all over him. He was surprisingly intact and not sore from sleeping on a table or inside a carriage. It took him a few moments to will himself truly awake, trying to decide if maybe he should try to squeeze in some more time while Jinx was letting him actually sleep unbothered.

He was pleasantly warm, and it took him a few moments to realize that at some point while he slept, Jinx must have tossed a blanket over him. He tried not question what the ulterior motive _there_ might have been. Maybe it was another desperate attempt to be hospitable, as he had told her quite truthfully that she was not.

Jayce inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times, tossing an arm over his eyes. He really did not want to get up and face whatever fresh hell Jinx had ready for him. Something seemed deeply wrong about her sudden willingness to be nice to him. It was only thinking about her sudden interest in hospitality that sparked a new realization: there was something weighing down the bed next to him.

Although he really hoped it was a gun with a note taped to it, the warmth radiating from next to him indicated that it was a living, breathing person. She was definitely close, as he could feel her breath on his arm if he paid enough attention. She had probably brought the blanket for herself and tossed it over them as an afterthought. Still, this was a level of intimacy he was certain he did not want to be sharing with the scrawny psychopath.

Reluctantly, he moved his arm, peeking with one eye next to him. She was sleeping next to him, not two inches away from him. If he moved, she would definitely wake up and jump on him with a million new things he had to do to help her in her stupid crusade against Piltover.

He closed his eyes again, deciding to get a little more rest, at least until _she_ woke up. Next to him, the weight shifted as she moved around, and he figured that maybe she was getting up or rolling over in her sleep. That was _definitely_ for the best. The farther away she was from him, the better.

"Good morning, handsome."

It wasn't the sudden sound that started him, but the tickle of her breath right on his ear as she spoke, very nearly brushing her lips against him. He jolted upright with a start, immediately moving as far to one side of the bed as possible, nearly sending himself to the floor in the process.

She burst into amused giggles, sitting up and bracing her arms across her stomach. Now that it wasn't so dark and he wasn't so tired, he could see that she was wearing a black-and-white striped nightgown that was probably a few sizes too big for her. With her hair free, even though it was frizzy since she had been sleeping on it, she was almost pretty in a more traditional sense. Jayce reprimanded himself for even noticing. "Ha! You should've seen your face! That was so good, and you didn't even punch me in the throat! Damn, that was so much more worth it than I thought it would be!"

Jayce waited for his heart rate to go back down to normal before he answered. "I'm still getting accustomed to waking up so close to someone who needs to be locked up."

"Yeah, good thing you don't have to get accustomed to all the weird stuff I do to you while you're asleep." He eyed her with disbelief. "I guess you'll never know. The only one who's awake then is _me_, and I know I'm not gonna tell you."

With a sigh, the inventor rubbed a hand over his face. "Come on, stop screwing around. What do you need me to do today? I need to finish up—"

"Nah, I finished it. Looked pretty good, kind of, for someone who was pretty much in a coma while they were working on it. Fishbones looks so very dapper now, which sucks because he might get a big head about it." She waved a hand dismissively. Jayce wondered if she had a name for every single gun in the building. If she did, he doubted she had the brain capacity to remember them all.

"So... am I done? Can I go?"

Jinx burst into laughter again, as if the thought of letting him go was _that _outlandish. He hadn't been expecting her to say yes, but he was still a little disappointed when she cackled at his completely legitimate question. "No way, not yet! Not so soon. I'm coming up with something else. But it hasn't been very long. I wanna keep you here for a little longer. You know, because of _reasons_ and whatever. Or maybe not reasons, but definitely whatever."

He stared at her blankly. Apparently coherent sentence structure was a thing of the past. Then again, coherent _anything_ was a rare find with Jinx, as far as he had seen.

She leapt to her feet, grabbing a little black length of string and using it to tie her hair up, taking it a few inches above her ankles but otherwise doing nothing for her.

"Your hair is giving me vertigo," he muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thanks!" she chirped, although Jayce wasn't entirely certain what he said had been a compliment. Her hair was pretty, in some sort of artistic way, but that was definitely not what he had meant. "Grew it myself. Took about a million years."

Jayce snorted, following her into the kitchen absently. "Oh, only? It really complements the whole 'braindead psychopath' look, if you ask me."

"That's a hell of a compliment, coming from a gay man!" As Jayce sat down at the table, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, she went for the empty-looking cupboards again. It seemed like there was more food in there than when she had last been rummaging around in them, but he didn't trust his memory _that_ much.

"I'm not—Whatever." He didn't feel too much like bickering with her when it was so early, when the likelihood of him saying something stupid was so high. Despite himself, he tacked on an afterthought. "Even though the thought of you touching me in my sleep definitely makes being gay seem appealing."

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter was such a mess to write. I restarted it a few times and so I have a few different versions of this chapters saved (one version is some strange backstory that I ended up not wanting to use), and the fact that I started it so many times is the reason is took so much longer than I anticipated. Anyway, I might have some stuff actually happen (in terms of _stuff_, aw yiss) pretty soon. Bear with me for a little longer, I'm gettin' there. Anyway, thank you so much for the lovely, kind reviews! Next chapter will be up whenever I sort out what the hell happened with all the different versions of _this_ chapter I wrote.


	8. Bitter

Silent for once and suspicious that she didn't hear anything coming from her bedroom as she walked in, Jinx was surprised to find that Jayce wasn't actively gnawing his own leg off to get out. She had shortened the length of chain he was on significantly so he was confined solely to her bedroom, although she had removed all of the tools he had been working with before so he couldn't fuck around with the chain too much. She knew it was a bad idea to leave him all on his own for a few hours, but her need to go to town dwarfed her need to supervise him. Besides, she had laid a few traps on the way out just in case.

It didn't look like he had even tried to escape. For the first time in a long time, Jinx had finally bothered to go out and buy things like real food that fully-functioning adults like Jayce ate. There wasn't much to eat in Zaun that hadn't been modified in some way that went against nature and probably most human rights, but she had found some things that maybe _real_ adults that didn't like to eat toxic sludge would eat.

It wasn't like _she_ ate the creepy food sold in the city. Most of what she ate involved sugary pastries and other sweet things, when she actually remembered to eat. She hadn't bothered to ask Jayce, in all his infinite wisdom and experience being a real adult, what she should get to feed him. It wasn't right to ask a dog what _it_ wanted to eat. She knew that much about owning pets-even though she knew Jayce would get real indignant real fast if she referred to him as a pet.

Jinx made sure she was totally silent as she walked toward him, trying to determine just how deeply asleep he was. He didn't move when she got closer. Still, to be sure that he was sleeping, she waved a hand in front of his face tentatively. He didn't twitch.

She cracked a grin. Jayce was a surprisingly heavy sleeper, as she had found out the night before, although she had been sleepy enough then that she had fallen asleep next to him. She wasn't so tired now, though. Jinx placed a knee on the mattress next to him, testing to make sure the shift in weight didn't wake him. He snored a little but didn't budge otherwise.

Slowly, she lowered herself into the spot next to him, sitting with her legs folded under her. Again she waved her hand in front of his face just to be sure that he was still asleep. He carried on quietly snoring, his chest slowly rising and falling.

For way too long, she just sat there and watched him sleep. It was much better to watch him up close and in person, where she could see every little movement he made and actually hear him breathe. She hated that she liked to just sit there and listen and watch while he was sleeping. It was creepy but she didn't care enough to stop. The previous night she had certainly prevented herself from just sitting and watching too long, but now she couldn't do that.

Jinx swallowed hard, furrowing her brow as she leaned forward to get a good look at his face while he was sleeping, bracing her hands carefully a few inches from either of his shoulders. She still couldn't see any signs of him being awake, and she was careful that her braids fell on either side of him instead of directly on him. Despite what little inhibition she had, she leaned further forward into him until only a few inches separated her face from his.

She closed her eyes. Why was she shaking like she was afraid? She didn't get afraid, and she especially didn't get afraid of Piltovian inventors that were stapled to their own high horse. She kept her breaths slow and light, trying not to focus on the fact that she could feel his breath.

On the fact that she wanted more than anything to touch him.

It was too long before Jinx realized that he was probably only going to sleep for a little while longer, especially considering he had gotten pretty close to a full night's sleep the previous night. Jinx never could sleep for all too long; she usually rested whenever she was tired for only a few hours at a time, if that. She always wanted to be _doing_ something, and sleeping was a surefire way to deprive herself of the chaos she wanted so badly.

She lifted herself up away from him, settling back next him, sitting on her heels. The movement, much less subtle and careful than her movements before, seemed to stir him awake.

"Honey, I'm home!" she sang, mostly to convince herself that he was not _catching_ her sitting next to him while he was sleeping. She had wanted him to wake up, she told herself. Just so long as he didn't catch her actively trying to prevent herself from touching him while he slept. She backed off the bed, nearly tripping over an empty cardboard box on the floor.

He was sitting up, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. Jinx was sad for a moment that she didn't get to watch him sleep for longer, although she reprimanded herself right away for wanting to. She felt like maybe she had met her creepiness limit the previous night when she had fallen asleep watching him up close, but she had shown restraint that she he nearly forgotten she had. Self-discipline was among her least favorite things to practice, but thought of being embarrassed for the first time since she was a kid really kept her from acting like a fool the way she wanted to so badly.

The few hours she had spent in town, away from Piltover's resident paragon, had probably done her good. It had given her the solitude she was accustomed to, even with Fishbones strapped across her back, lecturing her tirelessly the whole way there. He was even more annoying than usual, especially lately. His constant requests for her to settle down and live a peaceful life so he could stop being the rampaging death machine she had made him to be were preferable to his new fixation on her finding a husband and having some kids and learning how to be some domestic goddess. Jinx loathed cleaning, though, and she wasn't very good at cooking either. She already knew she would be an ill-fit parent for _any_ child, although she sometimes wished she had a kid to raise to be a chaos machine like her.

The stupid rocket launcher had insisted that she was lonely and that the need for company was driving her constant need for excitement, particularly in the form of explosions and the buildings of Piltover toppling to the ground.

Yeah, right.

All Fishbones had to back up his claims was how often Jinx seemed to talk (and, to his credit, _think_) about the silly inventor that she had chained up in her home for dubious reasons. Having him do little, meaningless tasks that put his skills in engineering to use made it obvious that she was just grasping at straws, looking for reasons to justify making him stay so long. The gun had rattled on endlessly about how obviously lonesome she was, even though she had chosen a life of chaos and madness over settling down to live a peaceful, quiet life with lots of friends.

Jinx had reminded her weapon that he needed to get the hell off his pedestal or she was going to take him apart and sell him for scrap, which was only true as far as _he_ was concerned.

Still, that didn't stop her from asking around a little after getting to town, for two reasons, as far as she could tell. First, she wanted to see if his claims to Zaunite infamy were true or if he was just talking himself up, as she was sure he often did. Second, she wanted to see that, if they were true, there was any dirt she could get to use against him. Unfortunately her days and days of watching him like some voyeuristic hawk had only revealed so much about him, and she had already exhausted her supply of taunts using _that_ ammunition.

The city-state of Zaun, at its core, was dirty and the people in it were creepy. It was a sleazy place to live, and she usually covered up quite a bit before going into city proper to avoid the leering eyes of the "businessmen" that hung out in the mouths of alleyways and in the bars. Normally she didn't care what people thought about how she dressed, but she couldn't get away with attacking some greaseball that yelled at her about how flat-chested she was in a city that she had to stay out of trouble in.

For the most part, the people of Zaun were unhelpful. "A Piltovian inventor guy named Jayce" usually was met with glares and looks of disgust, or some complaint about him having destroyed Viktor's laboratory, thus singlehandedly knocking all of Zaun's economy down a few notches.

She had given up on finding anything about the inventor from the embittered Zaunites who spat on the ground upon hearing his name when the only useful sliver of information came to her.

The information's truthfulness was pretty questionable, given that it had come from a clearly unhinged man—more crazy than Jinx herself, which was not too uncommon in Zaun—who was obviously homeless and horribly disfigured. Birth defects and disfigurement was standard fare for the polluted city-state's citizens, but he looked like he had been through something worse than what was considered unexceptional in Zaun. It looked like he had been tortured, so when he started howling for Jinx to come back, she hadn't thought to turn around.

And she probably wouldn't have turned around if he hadn't mentioned Jayce's name, that he had overheard her asking around about him. Although she felt uncomfortably _sane_ next to the vagrant, she had let him go on. It was pretty damn lucky that she had decided not to brush him off as crazy, since he had regaled her with the single most interesting story she had heard all year.

Now that she was there with Jayce, she wondered if she should bring up the strange, sad information the old man had offered to her now or if she should hold onto it until it was maybe a little more convenient for her—and less convenient for him.

Given that he was still yawning with tiredness, she figured she would hang onto it, at least until he was certainly aware enough to defend himself (or not).

"I brought real food! Since it's from town, we can play a game with it! Something along the lines of 'will eating this kill me?'" She felt around in her pockets, plucking out a keyring and going to the hook on the ceiling where his chain was attached.

As she had done when she was shortening the chain, Jinx climbed up onto the table underneath it and used a few different keys to detach the hook from the ceiling. She pulled on the chain so she could reattach it to the ceiling at its other end, giving Jayce plenty of room to move around again. She stuffed the keys back into her pocket.

"I'd rather not spend my time here throwing up. Actually, I'd rather not spend my time here at all." Unsurprisingly, he sounded bitter. She hadn't expected him to swoon and thank her for her kindness and generosity in bringing him food.

"Come on, stop being a baby! You dorks from Piltover are so prissy about your food. Jeez. '_Look at me, I need this to live!_'" she mocked his voice in an over-exaggerated tenor, wiggling her fingers in the air and rolling her eyes. "It's not _that_ bad in Zaun. I mean, it could be worse, probably. I think in Demacia they eat people. They're creepy. Of course, I've never been there but I've met people from there. They seem all smiley and nice, and then _boom_. They chop a guy in half, and probably eat the half they don't sacrifice to their king."

Jayce rolled his eyes at her.

"But that doesn't matter, and stop getting me sidetracked. Come on and eat some stuff, or else I'll shoot you. Hurry up."

* * *

Jinx was proud that she had the common courtesy to wait for him to finish eating before she asked him about what she had learned in Zaun. She had poked fun at him more than a few times for making faces while he was eating, either at the thought of what had been done to the food or at the taste (which was probably a result of what had been done to the food).

"I can't believe you're such a wuss about the food from Zaun," she chided. He was apparently trying to wash the taste out of his mouth with the beer she had picked up as well. She always thought beer tasted bad, but it was a brand from Freljord, which apparently made it acceptable to imbibe without being a little bitch about it. "I asked about you while I was there."

Jayce immediately looked wary of her. "...why?" He didn't ask what she had found out or who she asked. No, he wanted to know _why_, because of course he did.

She rolled her eyes at him dramatically. "Maybe I wanted to see if you were really as super famous there as you said. And you are! They _hate_ you. Awesome!"

He snorted, not impressed. "Congratulations. You found out my dirty secret. They hate me in the open manhole known as Zaun."

"No, wait up! I talked to a homeless guy about you too. He was nice. He said he knew your mom and dad. I guess they were smart people, which makes it that much more surprising that they somehow made _you_." The man hadn't mentioned what had happened to Jayce's parents, but he spoke of them in the past tense. Jinx wondered if Jayce knew that they were past tense sort of people.

"...what?"

"You shoulda said you were from Zaun. Do your friends know?"

He shrugged, looking nonchalant outwardly but something looked a little tense about him. "No, but they probably don't care."

"Are you _sure_?" she pressed. "I mean, if your parents were anything like the crazy people in Zaun who spend their whole day doing _evil laughter_... Maybe you should get into that. I could see it. You could use a badass scar, though. No villain is complete without a scar. Bet Vi's covered in 'em."

He shrugged passively, looking away.

Jinx hefted herself up from her spot at the table, going to the fridge and heaving out a carton of orange juice. She drank from it as she spoke, not bothering to pour any of it in a glass. "Dunno how a villain's kid ends up in Snoresville, though."

"My mom was from Piltover. She went crazy and went to Zaun and married my dad. He killed her when I was a kid and I went to live in Piltover with my uncle. I don't know or _care_ if he's alive." He sounded a little detached, as if he was talking about someone else's parents. It was hard for her to imagine the perfect little golden boy from Piltover as an orphan in Zaun. She was surprised he wasn't using that as a device to make himself look like even more of a success story in town.

She curled her lip in distaste as she plopped back down at the table, pushing the chair back so she could rest her feet on it. "Gross. Too bad they didn't let you become a street rat. It's a lot of fun. See the little urchins all over the place in Zaun. They stick their hands into your pockets and scream bloody murder if you stop 'em. I don't usually have big enough pockets to get your hands into, but I've seen it happen. It's a good time."

Jayce didn't answer her. It felt like he was cold shouldering her a lot lately. Then again, it probably wasn't hard for him to give his captor the silent treatment.

Jinx didn't say anything for one long, drawn out minute, feeling inexplicably guilty that she had so meanly brought up something that was probably sensitive. She liked to irritate him. Being a pain in the neck was fun, regardless of who it was. Hurting his feelings intentionally was a little out of her ballpark.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better—"

"It probably doesn't," he interrupted shortly. She didn't know how old he was now or how old he had been when he had lost his parents, but she had a bad feeling that a big part of the reason why he was so mad was because it was _her_ talking about it. Not someone he liked or even someone he didn't know, some uninformed stranger that didn't have any obvious reason to hurt him.

"—it sounded a lot like your dad's gone," she finished, sounding more patient than she ever thought possible. "Low-key" was not something she did very well.

"Why won't you just let me leave already?" he asked, nearly running over the end of her own statement again. "If there's something you need from me, just tell me what it is so I can get the hell away from you already."

The corners of her mouth tightened into a scowl, but the anger on her face didn't even come close to reflecting the sting of _that_. He didn't want to leave because it wasn't his home, or because she was still holding captive expensive inventions, or because he was on the outskirts of Zaun. He wanted to leave solely to get away from her. Even worse was the fact that he was totally, inarguably right to feel that way.

Even worse than that was the fact that she _still_ didn't want to let him leave. She didn't have anything else for him that he wouldn't flat-out refuse, but she didn't want to take the chain off and send him on his merry way. She could almost hear Fishbones in the next room reminding her that she didn't want to be alone again.

"I don't know, okay? I'll have something for you tomorrow. I mean it." That tasted like a lie. She had been racking her brain for ideas for the last few _hours_ and she hadn't come up with anything to sit him down with. "I'll find something."

"Will you?" He didn't sound convinced. "You shouldn't be keeping me here if you have to actually _find_ something for me to do for you. What the hell is your fascination with me?"

"I said I don't know!" She swung her legs off the table, getting up and going to the door. He didn't even stand up to follow her to the doorway. When she next spoke, she found it hard not to sound as bitter and unjustifiably upset as she felt. "Entertain your fucking self for a little while. I'll be around, but don't come crying to me when you get bored and lonely, asshole." With that, she marched out of the kitchen, just to get away from him.

* * *

**A/N:** Wow, yeah, this chapter took longer than it should have. I'm sorry! I got really sick for a few days (where I wanted to do nothing but lie around and die) and I had a couple exams that I had to do these past days/weeks/whatever. I've been writing this chapter for longer than I should have (like, a sentence at a time with long breaks in between), so it might seem a little disjointed and not right, and I went back and changed parts over and over and blah blah blah. I ended up changing direction and tone in this chapter like 400 times so it probably just sounds messy and bipolar (even more than is appropriate for Jinx) and whatever and I'm sorry.

In other news, I'm starting to draft up a different fic for another slightly (_cough_) strange pairing that also makes no sense, but that one will probably only be one or two chapters long if I ever get around to actually writing it, which is surprisingly hard, considering how long I procrastinate on everything always.

Anyway, hopefully the next chapter will be quicker since I actually know what's going to happen in the next one (probably). Like always, reviews and messages are always welcome!


	9. Punishment and Amnesty

Jayce flipped off her back as she stomped out, hands balled up into fists at her sides. She was huffy like a child, acting like _he_ had done something wrong. Every hour he spent chained up in her disgusting cesspit of a home was wearing on his patience, and that she was keeping him there solely to piss him off was hardly even the worst part. He could deal with the fact that she controlled whether or not he got to go back home, and whether or not going back home meant getting all of his things back. At this point, recovering his stolen property was more a matter of principle than anything, and if she had sold the parts off for scrap, he would be furious, but he would live.

What was not so easy to deal with was the fact that she was starting to pry. She was looking for ways to get under his skin, and that was expected. Jinx lived to be a sore for all of the people of Piltover, even though she seemed to be taking a special pleasure recently in tormenting him, especially since she could do it up close now. And he could take the jabs at his pride, as precious as it was to him, when those jabs were based solely on things _he_ had done.

But she had marched into Zaun and had begun sniffing around for information on him that he usually blocked out, when he could help it. Information that he was positive she wanted solely to bother him, and he was sure that she knew that whatever she dug up on him in the city was going to be bad. To rub salt in the wound, she was still keeping him here without even giving him something to do. Even something insignificant and tedious would be better than nothing, since at least then it would seem like she was keeping him there a reason (because pissing him off was _not_ a valid reason as far as he was concerned).

To push her standing with him—as abysmal as it already was—she had taken it upon herself to judge his heritage herself, just the way everyone had when he had been an impressionable, already damaged child. It had knocked his world on its ear when he was eight years old, finding his mother on her back on the kitchen floor with her legs still splayed up over the chair she had fallen out of. She had been blue in the face, foam that was tinged pink with blood still bubbling up from her mouth. His father was nowhere to be seen. Jayce hadn't seen him since the morning preceding that.

The sympathetic looks of the adults of Piltover who had been informed of his circumstances didn't help. He didn't want to be a victim, even as a child. It wasn't easy for him to accept the fact that maybe his parents hadn't been the heroes he had believed they were when he was growing up. Finding out the kind of man his father was (the kind of woman his mother was, at that) had been a tremendous blow to his self-esteem. It had taken him years to begin to recover.

Jinx certainly wasn't _helping_ when she acted like she knew what had happened. She acted like his life and his youth—something he had not made even his friends privy to—were her business. It had taken every last fiber of patience in him to not get his hands around her scrawny little neck and choke her until she shut up. Jayce had never considered himself an especially violent person, but she was making him _heavily_ consider.

He sat at the table, refusing to move from his spot as he fumed silently. His hands were white-knuckled, wrapped around the half-empty beer bottle she had offered him, attractively advertising that it was one of the few things that did not come from Zaunite factories. He was doing everything he could to not move his legs so he didn't have to acknowledge the added weight of the chain around his ankle or hear the sound of it sliding across the floor.

It took a few deep, long breaths before Jayce could even consider trying to reign in his temper. He was furious for a myriad of jumbled, convoluted reasons. There were a few that were definitely a little bit more prevalent than others, but it made him even angrier to consider those particular reasons. He paced his breathing and closed his eyes, releasing the bottle he had been strangling and stretching out his cramped fingers.

Out of habit, Jayce began to work through equations in his head to distract himself from his frustration. It was a nuance he had picked up as a preteen, something he did to distract himself while he was cleaning and being yelled at and reminded that he was the most useless person in the world. That was the only time he was really able to study while his great-uncle was awake.

He spent a few minutes doing that, waiting until the enmity that was causing an unwelcome pressure in his ribcage dulled. With a final deep exhale, he opened his eyes, leaning back and picking up the beer, careful not to keep it in a chokehold the way he had been before. His gaze focused on the crate full of bottles that sat about a meter away on the floor (Jinx apparently had the impression he had a drinking problem that needed fuel).

With his thinking not obstructed with anger, it was easier for him to reanalyze his primary source of irritation: Jinx. He had been short with her—maybe a little too harsh. It was fair enough to give credit where it was due: she had not shown the sort of counterfeit sympathy he had dealt with for years from people who didn't know how to deal with a child who had found their own mother dead. She hadn't been _mean_ about it, even though it definitely seemed like she had been trying to make light of something horrible. It was a big change from what he normally got. Maybe that was worth something.

Even thinking back through what he had said to her, Jayce couldn't think of anything he had said that was all that cruel. Still, the tone of her voice and the look on her face had hinted at something beyond impatience or irritation with his stubbornness. It was a hard thing to place, especially on her, when she was usually all grins and smirks and obnoxious cackles. But she hadn't sounded annoyed or sarcastic or vindictive.

She had sounded… hurt?

Given the range of emotion he had seen out of her, Jayce hadn't thought she was someone who could be hurt. Everything he said to her seemed to fly right over her head, or bounce right off of her in the form of a witty (or not-so witty) retort. The way she had responded had been so unexpected that he wasn't entirely sure what he was even going to do with himself now. It had thrown him off, if nothing else. Jayce hadn't even known that she was capable of negative emotion that wasn't masked by her typical silly demeanor.

Jinx had never sounded so genuinely upset with him. It was even stranger that _she_ was the one distancing herself from _him_, as If this was some kind of strange backwards punishment. As if being away from her was supposed to make him writhe in misery. He had only _just_ told her in so many unkind words that he wanted away from her. She had admitted to watching him for so long; she had obviously seen how much time he spent on his own. There was no way she thought that leaving him alone was punishment at all.

Unless the punishment wasn't for _him_.

That was a notion that left a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he drowned it with beer, finishing off the bottle and pushing the chair backward so he could grab another—and grabbed a couple more from the crate for good measure. He didn't want to make too many trips, even though the sound of the chair sliding across the tile masked the sounds the chain made when he moved.

If Jinx had really distanced herself from him as a form of self-discipline—as hard as it was to attach concepts like self-discipline to her—Jayce felt familiar inklings of guilt bubbling up inside of him. He had no real reason to be guilty, he reminded himself. She had done this to herself. Had pushed him into being nasty enough to her that she thought she deserved to be punished. She was holding him captive for no real reason, and he owed nothing to her when she was the wrongdoer from nearly every angle except her own.

Even if that was true, then why did he feel like the bad guy? The part of Jayce that was a natural altruist wanted to hunt her down wherever she was and apologize for being so short with her and tell her that he had been under the impression that he had gotten over his parents' death and identity years ago. Every other part of Jayce knew that was a stupid idea.

She had told him to stay away, firstly, and he really didn't want to be filled with bullets for ignoring that easy request. Secondly, he had nothing to apologize for and he knew that his pride wouldn't let him apologize to someone he loathed for things he was just making up. Lastly, he didn't want to go "crawling to her" like a submissive animal, just in case she got the impression that she was breaking him. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he was coming down with Stockholm syndrome. Capture-bonding was definitely not his style.

Fortunately, despite the internal dissent Jayce was facing, all of him agreed that it would be worth it to drink until he was brave enough to do anything at all. Using the edge of the table, he popped the cap off a second bottle.

* * *

Several beers and a few hours later, Jayce had worked his way through enough that he was still a ways away from necessarily _drunk_, but he could feel the alcohol soaking into his brain in a noticeable way. Usually getting drunk was not a reprieve for his problems, and he rarely drank to impairment of any kind. The bars in Piltover were generally well-mannered places where most people would look down their nose at anyone who was totally _sloshed_.

It took a painful amount of deliberation to even resolve that he had to go talk to her. That had been decided by the end of the second beer. But what he was going to say to her remained an issue. He knew that there was no way he could reasonably apologize to her for something he hadn't done (not on purpose, anyway) and expect to maintain his pride. He hadn't been _that_ bad, he kept repeating to himself. Strangely, the mantra didn't make him feel all that much better.

For some time, he had considered doing what she said and entertaining his own fucking self for a bit, until she got bored or lonely enough to come crawling back to him. As far as he could tell, she was pretty thirsty for attention, like an excited puppy with a brand new owner. She yapped a lot.

The fact that she was usually agonizing over whether or not he was paying attention to her was distressing to him. Hell, they had only personally acknowledged each other's existence maybe _once_ prior to him hunting her down, and even then it had been brief and stressful, considering there were buildings on fire right next to him. It bothered him that she was so fascinated with him and she couldn't give him a reason why. It bothered him even more that he couldn't tell what it was that she wanted out of him, despite his repeated asking. She always gave trivial, bogus answers (and, most recently, said she didn't even know).

She still had not come back to him a few hours later, and even though he definitely was not lonely without her, he knew that the longer she had to spend alone and think (as loosely as that term could be used), the worse it was going to be for him whenever she decided she was going to stop chastising herself. If that was what she was doing in the first place.

It wasn't often that Jayce couldn't think of something to say, but lately he had been finding himself stumbling over his words and struggling to find the right thing to say. He figured being wrongfully imprisoned did that to a person. Then again, it also wasn't like him to need or want to _plan_ out what he was going to say.

He rubbed a hand over his face, leaving it over his mouth as he swirled the bottle in his hand around absently, listening to the booze inside swish around quietly. For a few blissful moments, he didn't think about anything outside of the soft _plink_ of the water splashing up against the glass.

Despite himself, he pressed his palms to the table and pushed himself to his feet. He wavered for a moment, trying to adequately remember how to remain upright despite the alcohol jerking his center of gravity around. Had he been drunker, walking probably would have proved a challenge. Fortunately, he managed to walk—albeit a little bit clumsily—to the doorway of the kitchen, where he stopped to take another sip of the beer as he pondered where to look. The chain only allowed him to search this floor. If she were on a different floor of the building, that would snub his search pretty quickly.

There were two doors between the kitchen and the bedroom. He had to guess that she was probably in one of those, since the bedroom seemed a little too normal and too obvious for her. If she really wanted him to stay away, she probably wouldn't go to mope and fume in the bedroom, where he probably would have spent the majority of his time if not in the kitchen.

The door of the first room was hard to make budge, which was his first clue that maybe she wasn't inside. When he managed to wiggle the door open—not wanting to ram his shoulder into it and burst into the room like he was some kind of monster—he found that the dark room was entirely empty, save for a wooden chair in the middle of the room that had been tipped on its side. There was no trace of her inside, and he didn't have high hopes for the next room.

The second door was just barely ajar, giving about two inches' worth of vision into the room. He couldn't see much, but it was too dark inside to see much beyond the sliver of light from the hallway. The sliver of light only showed that the carpet inside had some tacky pattern on it that was not unexpected out of an equally tasteless former law office.

He reached out to push the door open with one hand, but he stopped just short of touching the door. Up so close, without the sound of the noisy chain constantly rattling against the floor, he could hear soft sounds slipping from the crack between the door and the frame. Jayce leaned in, bracing his hand against the wall so he could hear better.

It sounded like sobbing.

The noise was subdued, as if it was being intentionally stifled. Jayce's joints immediately locked up upon hearing it, stubbornly staying where he was. What if she was in there crying? He couldn't even _picture_ the blue-haired psychopath in tears, especially where she was trying to tamp down the noise in an uncharacteristically un-obnoxious way. He stood there for longer than he should have and listened to her. It felt to him like she almost _wanted_ to be found, having planted herself in one of the few places he could reach. He couldn't imagine _why_ she would want him to catch her in such a vulnerable state.

Every last shred of willpower in his body went into not turning and marching right the fuck away from that situation, given that he had no idea how to handle it. He took another drink, figuring he would need it to keep himself from hiding under the bed and waiting out the impending disaster that he was setting up for himself. With absolutely no game plan, he reached out slowly, pushing the door open. It swung open easily and silently. The light from the hallway filled the room momentarily before he stepped into the doorway, bracing his elbow against the frame to maintain his shaky balance.

Even though the light from the hallway tapered off around his shadow on the ground, the dimness of the room still provided enough vision for him to make out her figure on an overstuffed, surprisingly well-maintained sofa shoved against the wall to the right of the door. She was shaking almost violently, as if the air around her was colder than it was around him.

Her back was to him and her head was down, so it wasn't clear whether or not she even knew he was standing there.

It took him longer still to decide to say anything. When he finally came up with anything to say to her, all he could manage was a rather lackluster "Are you okay?" His voice came out raspier than he had expected it to. He cleared his throat quickly and quietly, not wanting to miss anything she said.

She didn't say anything in response, but he lingered there for a little while anyway. He really wasn't sure if he even _wanted_ her to answer. If she didn't, then that was a bullet dodged right then and there. With that crisis averted, he could go find something else to do while she was busy crying and ignoring him, two things he didn't want to be bothered by (but inexplicably was).

Jayce exhaled through his nose, trying to decide if he was relieved that she was giving him the cold shoulder. Slowly, he removed himself from the door frame, backing off and taking a drink, mind wandering almost instantly to the pressing matter of what he was going to do to pass the time now.

"Don't go."

He was barely a step into the hallway when he heard her speak. For a moment, he thought that maybe he had imagined her voice, but the shaky quality of her voice, the way it sounded when she was speaking from her throat because she had been crying, was not something he thought he could have just imagined on his own.

Equal parts curious and nervous, Jayce turned around to look at her again, moving back into the doorway. The second his gaze caught her in the dim, cold light, he really wished he had pretended not to hear her. She looked fragile, which was an entirely foreign quality for him to attach to her. Vulnerability was something he didn't associate—or _want_ to associate—with Jinx. He had already felt guilty enough for crimes he hadn't committed. Was she really going to make him chastise himself even more?

Her eyes were ringed with the same red that tinged the tip of her nose, and her cheeks were wet and streaky with tears. The manic smile that was usually on her face was missing. Her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth like she was afraid of something.

Of him?

It took Jayce some time to process just what was going on. He couldn't even tell if she was still actually crying, but he supposed that really didn't matter.

"Are… Are you okay?" he repeated, too dumbfounded to actually make original words come out. There were tons of questions in his head, but that was the only one it seemed his vocal chords had ready. And, really, it was pretty high up there in terms of importance.

Her bottom lip slipped out from between her teeth and quivered for a moment, as if the question was going to put her into sobs again. "I don't know," she answered, even though she was shaking her head slowly. He took a few steps closer, trying to figure out just what the hell she wanted him to do about whatever it was that was wrong in the first place.

Despite the logical part of his brain reminding him that it was probably something personal for her, he felt responsible. The reasonable parts of him that wanted to hate her were silenced by a more benevolent, stupid part of him that wanted to help her. That was the same part of him that wanted her not to cry and wished that she would even go back to antagonizing him. This was painful to see. He didn't know the cause of it and he was afraid to ask. He didn't want to catch himself caring too much just as much as he didn't want to hear her say it was his fault.

What was _wrong_ with him?

"Can I… help?" he asked, although the words came out stilted and awkward.

Much more quickly now, Jinx nodded. She pushed herself up into a sitting position on the floral-print sofa, folding her legs up against her and patting the spot next to her. Even though he was wary of her intentions, he took the last few steps up to the couch and sat next to her, leaving a scant inch of space between them. He leaned down to place the beer bottle gently on the ground.

She wasn't looking at him. Her arms were wrapped around her legs. "Are you gonna get mad if I touch you?" she asked, sounding more childishly sullen than sad now, which Jayce counted as a step in the right direction.

"No."

Without even hesitating, she leaned over on him, resting her head on his upper arm and nudging herself into him as closely as possible. Jayce did his best not to tense up at the sudden warm contact, not wanting to seem like he was afraid of her. He was mostly afraid that she was _planning_ something, but it was hard to think that when she was acting so… harmless and _naïve_. Her eyes were closed now, and she hummed a quiet note contentedly. To say Jayce was perplexed was a massive understatement.

Psychotic and unpredictable as she was, there was definitely a charm to her when she wasn't bouncing off the walls and blowing up Piltover. He looked down at her, hoping she didn't happen to open her eyes and catch him scrutinizing her face in a rare moment of docility. Stripping her of the crazed look that usually lingered in some fashion on her face, Jayce thought she was almost sort of pretty. Not his type, for sure. Usually the women he went for were a little more… _developed_, at the very least. He reprimanded himself for even thinking anything along those lines.

"I was wondering when you would get lonely without me," she mentioned offhandedly. A tiny, nearly invisible smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. She opened one eye to look up at him. "I thought…" The smirk went away almost as quickly as it had shown up. It was replaced by a frown that was just as subtle. She closed her eye again. "I didn't think it was gonna take so long."

Jayce wanted to tell her that he had not sought her out because he had been _lonely_, but because he had felt guilty for treating her so poorly. He figured that wasn't smartest thing to say to her right now when she was probably dangerously close to bursting into tears again. He really didn't want to be within kicking distance if that happened.

"Sorry to disappoint," he replied dryly. He was quiet for another moment, deliberating over whether or not continuing to speak was a good idea. It didn't matter, because she spoke up before he could continue on anyway.

"I didn't mean to piss you off so bad," she admitted apologetically. Jayce was surprised that she had admitted she was wrong before he had to. Jinx kept talking, letting her words run into each other. "I was just curious about you when I was in town and I was so surprised that you weren't from…" Her voice tapered off.

"…Piltover?" Jayce finished, cocking an eyebrow at her. She shook her head against his arm, seemingly determined to make him acknowledge that she was trying desperately to cuddle with him.

"…A real family." She looked bitter for a second before going on. "I always just kinda figured that most of you people from Stupidtown were from perfect little families with all your perfect little houses."

Jayce snorted. Most people in Piltover _did_ come from neat, perfect families like those, but he figured that was just part of what made the City of Progress attractive. Noxian parents were constantly slaughtered in military life, and Demacian children were usually enlisted in the army before they were old enough to have a choice. Zaunite families were torn apart by madness and sickness, the way his had been, and most Ionians belonged to families that were anything but _little_.

He wanted to ask her where _she_ came from, if it was so surprising to her that his family was a paragon of imperfection, but he thought better of it. The curiosity wasn't worth the risk.

"I was raised by my mom's uncle in Piltover after I turned eight. He was so huge he could barely walk and he yelled at me whenever I wasn't cleaning up the messes he made. Usually about how terrible my parents were," he explained. Jayce's guardian as a child was a much less sensitive topic. "It's not good for an eleven-year-old's self-esteem when they're told all they'll ever be good at is being a housewife. Especially when that eleven-year-old is a boy."

Jinx snorted with laughter. As if it was a natural thing for her to do, she lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulders. The way she did it didn't seem to imply that she thought much of it, either, and he didn't want to admit that this was at least physically more comfortable for him. Jayce didn't say anything about it, especially since it didn't feel as strange to do when she was laughing and not sobbing.

She didn't say anything after that, closing her eyes so she could rest her head on his chest. He swallowed hard, exhaling deeply. "I probably shouldn't have snapped at you. I've been _over it_ for a long time now. I was just… I don't know. Panicking, maybe." He didn't mention that the fact that he was literally chained to the place he was staying automatically corrected any wrongdoings on his part, but clearly being mean to her wasn't the way to influence her to set him free at long last.

Again she didn't say anything, leaving her eyes shut. He looked down at her again, trying not to focus on the closeness or on the fact that it was absolutely _wrong_ for him to let her cozy up to him the way she was. He didn't want to think about the fact that he wasn't hating her as much as he knew he should and that he still ultimately had to get his shit and get the hell out of there as fast as possible. Even though he had been furious at her only a few hours ago, he was finding it hard to feel that same animosity when she was resting on him, looking strangely innocuous. A need for basic human contact like this, especially after being so deprived, was normal.

He wondered if it was normal for him to feel like he wanted more.

Immediately Jayce admonished himself for letting those intrusive thoughts in. Going without more intimate contact was something he could put up with, no problem. The issue was that he didn't have the power of free will the way he did in Piltover. Options were available to him when he was home. He did not have those same options available to him here.

Well… With the way she was acting, he had at least _one_ option available to him here.

"Are you going into cardiac arrest or something? I can hear your heart going crazy fast. Are you becoming part hummingbird or something?"

"I'm fine," he answered, sounding much more defensive than he had intended. The possibility of her even guessing the kinds of annoying, unwelcome thoughts he was having embarrassed him right away. Even if talking about his parents was off-limits to her, she had already made it clear that his sexual habits were fair game. It probably wasn't helping that he hadn't gotten nearly drunk enough to make any bad decisions justifiable. The booze definitely wasn't helping, though.

He was hoping that maybe she would figure that he was just dying or something and brush it off, but that wasn't the case. One side of her mouth turned upwards in a perverse smirk as she looked up at him, clearly trying to challenge him. "Am I making you all hot and bothered, pretty boy?"

"Bothered, maybe. Don't flatter yourself," Jayce countered sharply, feeling his face warm up as he looked away from her, trying desperately to tame his pulse. This was his big reward for trying to be kind to her for once. She was going to torment him for it. He was wishing he could have an icy cold shower as punishment instead, as it stood.

"Uh-huh. Yup," she snickered. She eyed him suspiciously and he tried not to notice, although he figured acting like she didn't exist probably wasn't going to be a useful tactic to counter whatever horrible, irritating thing was going through her mind.

Jinx sat there, watching him with that stupid ornery look on her face. It wasn't long before he broke and looked back at her. "What?" he snapped exasperatedly.

"Oh, nothing. You know, just—" She cut herself off mid-sentence, precipitously snatching him around the back of his neck and bringing him down to her level so she could press her lips against his.

* * *

**A/N:** Well... here's this. I just read it too. What the hell did I just write? It's 7 AM, just because I never actually went to bed and didn't actually work on my term paper or study for finals or anything and I just did this. Anyway, hooray for responsible decision-making! I've had this chapter planned pretty much since I started writing this and now that I wrote it, just... what the hell, self. Do I actually have stuff in mind that'll help any of this make a little goddamn sense? Hopefully we'll find that out whenever the next chapter comes out. I have some tests and garbage this week and next week is finals, but I'll try and have a chapter up next weekend or sometime this week. Like always, reviews, messages, and other forms of stalking are always welcome!

(Also, Forsaken Jayce, amirite. _Hello_, nurse!)


	10. Meaningless

It lasted for far longer than it should have. Jinx's original intention was to give him a demeaning little peck on the lips intended solely to irritate. Unfortunately, between her poor impulse control and the inexplicable need to touch him _anyway_, she kept him there for longer than she really meant to. Besides, what she did was less of a "peck" and more of a "full-on frontal assault". As if she knew the difference.

Jayce was definitely strong enough to pull back or push her off. Jinx knew that much. Even after the window during which he could say he was too surprised to react, he didn't move to make it stop. It almost seemed to Jinx like he even relaxed a little, like the tensed muscles in his neck loosened under her fingers. Was he _enjoying_ it? She did all she could not to smirk against his mouth, deciding firmly that _maybe_ pissing him off wasn't the smoothest or brightest thing to do to get her way.

If only she could figure out what "her way" was.

Jinx never had a penchant for details. She was always much more of a "bigger picture" sort of person (especially when it was a big picture of hellish chaos), so she surprised herself when she realized she was grasping for little details, trying to instill every little part of right now into her memory.

The warmth of him against her.

The slight dampness of the skin on the back of his neck.

The lingering hints of Freljordian beer that she could only taste once it dawned on her that he was kissing her back.

It seemed like everything fell into place after that. Jayce's hands, devoid of the gloves he normally wore, came to a fairly innocuous rest on her waist, sliding beneath her braids so he didn't pin them to her. She didn't tense up the way he often did, but her skin tingled warmly where his fingers touched it. His reciprocation left her feeling like her heart had gotten stuck in her throat. Excitement was not new to her, but anxiety certainly was.

_What do you think you're doing?_ the logical tenor of Fishbones chided in her head. _You are playing on the physiological needs of a man who is clearly not well. Because of you._ She knew that much already. Whether or not she wanted to _think_ about it was a different matter entirely. Jinx attempted to silence the voice of the maddeningly responsible rocket launcher that was echoing in her head, to no avail. _If, by some miracle, he does actually think anything not terrible of you, then what will you do? Settle down?_

Jinx ignored the concerned voice. "Settling down" was not in her plans, and she knew that Fishbones knew that just as well. She didn't want to think so far ahead. Planning so long in advance made her head spin.

Jayce was moving his hands up to rest on her face, arching along her jawline. Her hands left his neck so they could claw at the front of him, her fingers trying to find purchase somewhere on his clothes so she could start picking at them.

And then it ended.

He was moving her away, using his hands on the sides of her face to put distance between them. Jinx was breathing so hard and her heart was going so fast she was mostly sure she was going to end up convulsing on the floor. She stared at him, wide-eyed, her brain grasping desperately for something to say to him. For once, she couldn't come up with anything. She didn't have an excuse, and was embarrassed by the fact that she wanted an excuse to begin with.

Jayce looked like he was going to say something. His eyebrows were furrowed just slightly with misplaced concern and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly having the same issue she was. He wasn't mad at her, though, which Jinx counted as a blessing.

Instead of saying anything, Jayce just shook his head at her—or at himself. He pushed her off, letting her drop unceremoniously to the other side of him as he got to his feet. Jinx just watched silently, feeling rare pangs of something she didn't understand as he covered his mouth, pacing back and forth in front of her.

She had to say _something_. His nervous silence was killing her. Jinx didn't know what to expect out of him but she was willing to take just about anything.

"O-kay, why are you—"

"You _know_ it doesn't mean anything," he interrupted. Jinx didn't know if he had even heard her start talking. "I don't know what… what kind of fucked up game you're trying to play but I'm sick of it."

That wasn't what she had been expecting out of him. That was for damn sure. She stared at him, trying to come up with some way to justify what she was doing. She had never really been one to run the long con. She didn't even know what the long con was right now, but apparently he knew something was up. _Told you so_.

Feeling like she was suddenly on trial, Jinx began to stammer. "C-Come on, poster boy, I-I wasn't…" Hell if she knew how to finish that sentence truthfully. She was well aware she was toying with him more than was ethically just, but ethics had never been her thing.

"You weren't _what_?" he said bitterly, pinning her with a particularly dirty look. Jinx couldn't believe she had pissed him off again, and so soon. It seemed like she fucked up especially bad only when she really wasn't trying to. In fact, he only got really, really mad whenever she was trying to be _nice_—although, admittedly, she didn't think kissing him was "nice" when she was the only person he had seen for days. Like she was trying to goad him into capture-bonding by playing with his libido. That really wasn't her style.

Jinx gave a noncommittal shrug, looking away. She brought her knees up to her chest as she picked at the peeling floral fabric of the sofa. "I dunno. You don't have to be all mad about it…"

"Mad about _what_?" His volume was rising a little. She really hoped he wasn't going to yell. Yelling was _her_ thing. She felt like Jayce yelling would probably signify a psychotic break, to be followed shortly by him choosing to throttle her. "Mad about you keeping me hostage and then trying to take advantage of the sympathy I didn't need to try to give you? Mad about you trying to exploit me just because I was _sorry_?"

Well, when he put it _that_ way… She hadn't thought that she was exploiting his kindness. She did know that she didn't deserve the kindness and sympathy he had offered, but it seemed like he had completely misread her intentions.

Jinx wasn't a hundred percent sure what her intentions were in the first place, but they hadn't been nearly as nefarious and bitchy as he seemed to think.

His volume kept rising until he was just short of yelling at her. "Does it really just not occur to you how pathetic and desperate you're being? Do you really want to make yourself seem worse by using _pity_ to try and seduce someone who already can't stand to be near you?"

Now _that_ wasn't what she had been trying to do. Not by a long shot. Jinx had never been the kind of person to offer a sob story in exchange for anything. Hell, she rarely even cried, and now he was accusing her of being insincere when she was crying. As if she had been expecting him to come after her and try to play nice when he found out he had made her cry. She had come in here fully expecting to be there alone until she was ready to find him again.

Jinx stared at him, looking like he had just slapped her. "I wasn't _pretending_ to cry. If that's what you're saying, ever so rudely." Got 'em. "And I wasn't trying to guilt trip you into doing anything, stupid. I don't care if you feel bad for me, which you don't and you reeeeally probably shouldn't. It's not _my_ fault that you're a total dick whenever I try to be nice to you." _Especially by sleeping with you_, Jinx thought sheepishly. She doubted that verbalizing the intentions they both likely knew were there would help her case that much.

"_Nice_?" he spat incredulously. "Does chaining me up and holding me _and_ my life's work hostage count as _nice_ to you?!" Whoosh. He had missed her point entirely.

She shrugged, getting to her feet and maneuvering as far around him as possible, suddenly feeling like being within arms' reach of him was not entirely cohesive to her plans to not die. "Well, I'm trying to give you the deluxe luxury package while you're staying here at Hotel Jinx, but you're not making it easy, considering you snap and act like I'm branding you with a hot iron every time I try to do something nice."

Jayce rolled his eyes, and Jinx likened him to a teenage girl that had just been grounded. "You're missing the point—"

"Nonono, you don't get it, jerkass! If you're going to be here anyway, why are you only getting mad when I'm trying so hard to make you not do that? Jeez." She tossed her head back, blowing a strand of azure hair out of her face impatiently. "You could've just said no, or threw me on the floor and kicked me a few times. You don't have to be such a dick about it. I got the message loud and clear. I mean, I've never killed a guy for not wanting to sleep with me before. So far." Then again, she was still pretty new to the whole "keeping prisoners" thing, too.

Jayce groaned, clearly trying to rein in his temper. He wasn't looking at her, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes tight. He stayed like that for a little while, and when he finally relaxed, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, he didn't say anything. So much for yelling at her. Jinx assumed that he was going to give him the cold shoulder once again and rolled her eyes, turning away from him and heading for the door haughtily.

It was pretty hard to walk out looking prideful when her face was still streaky with tears.

"Okay, wait a second."

"What is it now, pretty boy? I mean, I have most of a chocolate cake in the kitchen I'd rather be eating instead of getting bitched at." Jinx extended her arms, stretching out her muscles and hearing her spine pop as she went through the doorway. She didn't turn to glare at him, although the temptation to do so lingered in her mind. She turned to walk toward her bedroom instead of to the kitchen, not as hungry as she had thought. Her stomach was churning uncomfortably.

So what if he _had_ been willing to sleep with her, she thought sourly, ignoring the fact that he was following her. He had made it explicitly clear that he thought _nothing _of what he did with her. Thinking about that made her feel ill for some unknown reason—she attributed it to a general (and intentional) lack of intimacy in her life that she was apparently using Jayce to burst free from. That made her feel a little scummier than she usually meant to be. It really miffed her that he was _following_ her without saying what the hell it was that he wanted from her.

"Dammit, what do you want?" Jinx groaned, finally turning to give him a dirty look as he followed her into the bedroom.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't answer her. His hand came down hard on her throat, leaving Jinx a moment to panic before his lips followed, coming down hard on hers. The curve between his thumb and his index finger left just enough room for Jinx to breathe. His other hand, big and warm and slightly calloused, was moving along her side, pulling aggressively at the strap that kept her top secured to her.

It was probably unhealthy that he had gone from irate to irate-but-horny in such a short span of time and she wasn't even jarred by the change. In fact, she was too wrapped up in the feeling of his hands and lips all over her to be aware of anything but the irrepressible _craving_ she had for him. He pulled away after a moment, only to speak once: "This doesn't mean a thing."

* * *

"Fuck off! You need permission to touch it, and you didn't even _ask_!" The blue-haired teenager brought the rocket launcher up tight against her chest. She spat on the shoes of the older teenager who was grasping at her prized possession, demanding to know why it looked like something someone from Piltover might make. She blew a raspberry at the offended boy. "Try _asking_ next time, and maybe I _won't_ spit on your shoes before kicking your ass!"

The teenager snorted. He wasn't from the same gang as she was, and she wasn't exactly known for treating her own with respect, let alone another. She also wasn't known for her physical prowess. While she had an excellent mind for mechanics and explosives, stripped of those she wasn't able to put up much of a fight. She was scrawny, even for a fourteen-year-old girl.

"Those are some pretty tough words from a little girl who has to hide behind _scrap metal_," he sneered, looking around surreptitiously as if he was trying to find someone. "What are you gonna do, cry for your big sister to come save you again?"

"No, I don't need to—"

"Jinx, what the hell are you doing?"

_Seriously?!_ Jinx leaned to one side, peering around the hulking teenager, still cradling the launcher in her arms. Vi stood there, hands on her hips, looking pissed off like she always did whenever she thought Jinx had wormed her way into trouble. The blue-haired girl's face scrunched up in irritation. "Go away, I'm fine! This guy just can't handle the fact that I'm _smarter than him_."

He shot her a dirty look before looking back to Vi, as if he was trying to decide if putting Jinx in her place was worth it. The look on Vi's face made his decision easy.

Maybe in another life, she might have fit into the slot of "traditionally pretty." She had long hair that, like Jinx, she had dyed an unnatural color to reflect their rejection of a normal lifestyle. The tattoo on her cheek—"VI"—was meant to reflect the roman numeral, but it had stuck much better as a name. Four years her sister's senior, she was everything to be looked up to for two kids adapted into lives of crime and petty thievery. "Whatever. Your _baby sister_ is gonna get hers, I hope you know that."

"Whatever. Shove it," Vi answered brusquely, grabbing the collar of the other teenager and shoving him roughly to the side. He slunk off, looking back at the girls moodily. The older girl pushed her long dark pink hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms, giving her sister a long, hard stare.

"What?! What is that look for? You could turn someone to stone like that." Jinx turned up her nose defiantly. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"What did you do to piss him off?" She pointed in the direction the thug had wandered off. "You know what it's like around here. He wouldn't pick a fight with you just because you were around."

Nose still in the air, she gave an exaggerated "hmph" in response to the accusations. "I was talking to some people about the thing I'm working on. He was all pissy with me 'cause he doesn't like that I base my stuff on Piltover's tech, but who even cares about any of that? It's better." She didn't mention that Piltovian tech was what they were accustomed to. She didn't need to.

"The thing you're working on? What, like the stupid missile?"

She nodded. "Yeah, and I think I'm getting close to making it work okay. I just… I need to go far away to test it. I don't wanna get sent out of the city for playing with weapons of mass destruction."

"You don't _need_ to test it. You don't need to be playing with huge weapons like that, stupid. They're not toys, and you're gonna get Zaun in trouble."

Jinx blew a strand of hair from her face. "No, I'm gonna say I'm from Piltover if I get caught. I don't wanna get these guys in trouble… Either way, I'll never know how it works if I don't test it. I wanted to go way down south toward the mountains to try it."

Vi glared for a long moment before sighing. "If you go, I'm going with you. I don't want you blowing yourself to bits without me being there to see it happen."

* * *

Jinx awoke to a loud screeching noise coming from beside her bed. She groaned loudly, sitting up in bed to look for the source of the sound. Sitting up proved to be a painful task, and she pondered briefly if her internal organs were all in proper order or if they had gotten moved around the previous night. To both her pleasure and dismay, Jayce wasn't around. She figured that he had probably gone into the kitchen or something without waking her up. To be fair, she was a pretty heavy sleeper.

She was sore. The bruises that left ghostly reminders where he had been holding onto her marred her hips, legs, and chest, and she was sure that she had a few on her neck. Jinx reminded herself to look in a mirror later to check for bruises and other unfortunate markings that she couldn't see with just a cursory glance downward. She was sure she was more covered than she realized. Ever since she was a kid, she had always been an especially easy bruiser. Jayce, she guessed, probably didn't have the same evidence on _him_.

The grating noise continued as she threw her legs over the side of the bed, still trying to figure out where the noise could possibly be coming from. She had enough hextech around that was capable of making a sound like that, but finding out where it was posed an issue.

Deciding the noise was bearable enough for a minute despite the dull throb at her forehead, she dug around for some clean clothes, getting dressed quickly so she could smash the source of the sound. It was staticky and loud, like a radio that was picking up dead air, but Jinx had a few different radios like that (very few of which were actually operable).

Just as soon as it had begun, however, the sound flickered out and was replaced by a quiet little tune that sounded like music a seamstress or grandmother would listen to.

"It's been a while, Jinx." Had she imagined that? The voice wasn't familiar, but it sounded… young. The music continued on merrily on the background.

That was when she realized that the screen in front of her bed, the one that usually displayed Jayce's empty and motionless bedroom, had changed. There sat a girl that looked like a porcelain doll. The screen still didn't show color, but it was obvious even from the greatly varying shades of gray that the girl had too much makeup on. Her mouth was moving, just out of sync with the voice on the radio.

"If you're talking, I can't hear you. So you're welcome to stop," she continued on politely. Jinx smirked in small victory. She, in fact, _hadn't_ thought to talk to the radio. "Here in our organization, we're always looking for new sources of supplies. If not, we wouldn't be in business, right?"

_Something's not right,_ a logical voice in her head whispered. Jinx swallowed hard. Thank you, Captain Obvious. Nothing was ever right with the creepy slavers.

"We've already told you what our business goals are, and we understand that you are unwilling to join us, even for the excellent pay we've offered you. This is a shame, as we believed you would have been an excellent addition to our community. We extended a similar offer to your handsome visitor shortly before he arrived. We are not entirely certain what happened to our dear friend Kitty in our violet car, but I am afraid she went missing sometime after picking up your friend."

Oh, shit. What color was the creepy slaver car she had blown up a couple days ago? Given that Jayce had arrived at the same time it had, she guessed that was the car they were referring to. At least she knew how he had managed to find his way to her home.

"What happened to Kitty is unfortunate, of course. She had your friend in a clever vise. Could you imagine the scandal if Piltover had found out that _he_ had taken advantage of a fourteen-year-old girl? It's so sad that we lost her." Jinx wrinkled her nose. Obviously they were lying, but why were they bothering to tell her that they had been planning on extorting Jayce using made-up evidence? It wasn't her problem.

She rolled her eyes and called out. "Jayce! There are some crazy people on the radio that want to blackmail you or something!"

"But we think there may be a way we can both benefit from the loss of our friend. We received some valuable information. You see, we've been watching you for a little while now, Jinx, much more closely than you might realize. We know now the kind of… business you have had with our friend the Piltovian inventor. And we think that we might have an offer to extend to you."

Jayce wasn't making any noise. She turned around to look out the door, but something much more troubling caught her eye first.

The heavy pink chain that was usually attached to Jayce's ankle was coiled up neatly on the floor like a hemp rope. The end of it was slightly mangled, as if it had been cut close to his leg. Jinx felt her heart drop with disappointment and then start beating in double time with fear. She had a bad feeling she already knew what had happened to him.

"We understand that you have lots of knowledge about… less reputable and less wealthy young people in Zaun. These… _unfortunates_ are the only faction of people that have caused us more trouble than _you_, it breaks my heart to say, and we've been evaded several times. We would like to ask for your help and knowledge so we can purge Zaun and wash our hands of this.

"And I know it's going to be your instinct to say no. Those are your _friends_, you might say. But we have a trade to offer." The girl stepped to the side. Behind her, in a weak light, was Jayce. It was hard to tell exactly what was wrong with him, but it obviously didn't bide well for him. His eyes were covered and it looked like he had something in his ears. He was hanging by his wrists and by his neck from the ceiling, his feet just barely supporting his weight on the ground.

On his bare chest, Jinx's distinctive "X" was spray painted. Jinx really didn't want to think about why they would bother doing something like that. Panic welled up in her.

"If you are unwilling to provide us with the help we need from you once more, we may have to put the revered inventor into circulation here in Zaun. Being the kind of individual he is, we are sure he will be roughly worth the amount in damages your information might be worth. What will happen to him after he goes into the buyers' hands is not our fault or our concern."

Jinx knew exactly what sorts of horrible things would happen if she just let him go. She wasn't much for torture on anybody, even the people of Piltover. Hell, she seldom intentionally killed the people in Piltover. If they _happened_ to be near a high explosive that would create some extra fun colors, she'd detonate it in a heartbeat regardless of what happened to that citizen of Piltover.

Then again, Jayce wasn't just any citizen of Piltover. He was _her_ property. Apparently the rule of "finders' keepers" meant nothing to soulless slavers. The thought of them turning him over to people who would torture information out of him before killing him made her feel sick. She couldn't just leave him to die. If he knew what was going on, she was pretty sure he was already making amends with himself for any wrongdoings.

On the other hand… The people in Zaun they would enslave and kill were just as innocent. While "innocent" wasn't exactly a prerequisite for immunity to Jinx's violence and chaos, those people had raised her. She knew that most of them meant better than they were given credit for, and she didn't like the idea of them enslaving and probably killing teenagers like she had once been because they were an inconvenience. The thought of them making the lives of the cutesy little society of human traffickers hellish made her proud.

But still… She didn't like having to make big decisions. She didn't like having to think about things like ethics and emotions and the impact of her actions on the few people she cared about at all.

The girl on the screen didn't give her much time to make a decision or to think about it, going on in the robotically sugar-sweet tone they all seemed to speak in.

"On your nightstand you'll find directions to our location. You are certainly more than welcome to launch an attack as is going to be your first instinct, but your friend here might get hurt if you choose to do so. After we have received all of the information we need, we will turn your handsome friend over to you. Do hurry. You have twenty-four hours before consequences for unwillingness to cooperate might begin to take effect. Thank you."

* * *

"Jinx, sit down. You're still hurt. I already told you that she's… that we can't find her." The older sister of one of her fellow gang members pushed Jinx back down onto the mattress on the floor where she had been situated for the last few days. Jinx sat right back up again, blind to the pain that shot through her middle and nearly left her reeling.

"No! If you guys are just gonna give up on her, then I'm gonna go look on my own. You don't care about her. You don't care about either of us," the fourteen-year-old sneered, pounding the center of her chest with her fist, wincing. With three cracked ribs, a fractured wrist, and an impressive collection of other injuries, she was told she was lucky to be alive. "You guys always talk about how we're gonna turn on you because we're Pilties, right?"

The group of teenagers, their faces dirtied with weariness, looked between each other. "We wouldn't just let her go. We brought you back. Don't be stupid."

"You can't just stop _looking_, though. What if she's… fuck, I don't know, what if she's stuck under a rock or something and she's bleeding out because you didn't see her?"

"We _all_ swept the place for, what, miles? We had other people looking for us, too. She wasn't there. There's just no way."

"Then what happened to her? She didn't just disappear! I'm not that stupid!" Jinx had a nasty feeling that they were lying to her about what had happened to Vi, but she didn't want to be spared the guilt. She knew it was her fault Vi was gone. The missile launcher she had spent so long working on had backfired, and she was the one who had convinced Vi to let her try it. She had let Vi come with her to try it out, even in the middle of nowhere, just east of the pass through the Ironspike Mountains. The thing had exploded and, by some twist of fortune, Jinx had survived the flying debris with easily fixable wounds. She had woken up in Zaun, underground, two days later.

According to the passerby that had found her, she had been alone in the middle of the burning debris. He didn't know how long she had been there unconscious, but he had taken her into Zaun—where, conveniently, he had been headed anyway. The entirety of her gang and then some headed out to the scene of the accident to search for the pink-haired older girl, coming back empty handed.

"We wouldn't lie to you if she died, but we just couldn't find her. She wasn't there. Maybe she got picked up by someone else further away. There's just no way to know."

Jinx huffed, glaring at nothing in particular. She trusted that Vi would come back to her if she was alive and able. They weren't done making their mark and the world and leaving chaos and excitement in their wake, just like Vi had told her their goal was.

But her body was just _gone_, traceless, and Jinx had been found all alone. She could only hope that, by some incredible stroke of luck, Vi had made it out okay. If she was okay, Vi would come back to her. Jinx was her baby sister, and Vi had promised never to leave her behind.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, this chapter took... kind of a lot longer than I meant it to. Between finals and other unfortunate stuff happening the last few weeks, this took a long while for me to actually sit down and write (and in chunks, so like always it might sound a little bit weird or disjointed in places). I was busy writing another bit of a thing for a different chunk of fic, as well (that I might post at some point, if I can be bothered to finish it). This chapter was supposed to be nearly twice as long as it is now (I had more planned), but KSMittens reminded me to get my ass in gear, and here's this!

I had a few different things planned for Jinx (and Vi)'s background, but Ekko (holy hell, what a champion, my lore-senses are tingling) gave me what I needed to make it a little more canonical and shit. Hopefully, since the next chapter was supposed to be part of this chapter so I already have it started, the next chapter should be out in a more reasonable span of time. Since finals are over and I'm not sick and I'm out of excuses, updates should be coming a little more frequently.


	11. Supply and Demand

_He doesn't deserve what's going to happen to him. You know you care._

"Yep, I know that. Shut up."

_But neither do _they_. What will you do?_

Jinx swallowed hard as she sat in the archway. The underground tunnels she had used to get to Piltover so often were much more intricate than Jinx had been aware. Doors that seemed to lead to dirty supply rooms and tech closets hid systems of more tunnels—one of which lead to the Valoran Nobles' Society's less polished base of operations. The tunnels, at a certain point, were sprayed with hot pink arrows telling Jinx where to go in case she got lost. If she had to guess, she would guess they had swiped it from her at some point. Whatever. She had plenty.

She didn't know what she was going to do, although she had turned over her options in her mind over and over again the entire way here. Even Fishbones, who seemed pleased that she would come to him for help, even reluctantly, seemed to regard each option with equal disdain. He was holding out hope that maybe Jayce would be the one to mellow her out and help her settle down. Jinx reminded the rocket launcher none too patiently that, unlike Jayce, _it_ was expendable.

The slavers had made it pretty goddamn clear they were only in it for the money. Jayce's life and wellness meant nothing to them, even though he was a celebrity in northern Valoran (and his name had probably breached the confines of other parts as well). Then again, they didn't even particularly want to _enslave_ the "unfortunate" youths of Zaun, those that had raised her even though she'd had nothing when she had come to Zaun as a little kid. They just wanted to wipe out the gangs from the slums of Zaun. From what Jinx knew about the crowd she had grown up in, they were only causing trouble for the slavers to save their own people. The slavers only wanted the money to pay for the damages done by them—and to cover the lost profits from unsold young Zaunites.

Jinx had quite a bit of money from a lot of different places. But that wasn't anywhere near the kind of cash she would need to just pay the slavers off for the Zaunites' lives and for Jayce's freedom.

_Jayce's freedom_. Jinx scoffed at herself. As if Jayce's freedom wasn't just as much of a joke to her as it was to _them_. As if she wasn't planning on hauling him back and chaining him up again because she had gotten so attached. Letting him go back to Piltover after holding him captive for nearly a week with no reason given didn't sit well with her.

Still… There were easier ways for them to find money off of Jinx. She knew that. And if she couldn't otherwise shoot her way out of this, she knew she had to negotiate.

Deciding that time was too precious to sit around, she got to her feet and went through the archway without hesitating. To her surprise, they hadn't decorated much. The damp walls of the tunnel were left as dull as always. The floor was even destroyed in some places, slabs of concrete jutting out of the ground like little icebergs. The tunnel was dimly illuminated by light bulbs swinging overhead, about fifteen feet apart from each other. She could make out some light filtering through doorways much further off. The entire place felt a little bit too… _traditionally_ creepy. This wasn't the polished, backstabbing kind of creepy.

Jinx figured _this_ cesspit probably wasn't their main center of operations. They definitely wouldn't trust her enough to invite her there.

_Something is definitely wrong here_, Fishbones' logical tenor chimed, and for once Jinx wholeheartedly agreed with him. She was so busy looking around for anything or anyone to appear that she didn't notice the faint figure standing just in front of the doorways. The girl's voice reverberated through the tunnels.

"We're glad you decided to come, Jinx. I hope you brought those weapons for companionship and not violence."

It was the same girl that had been speaking to her before. She was wearing a cutesy little white-and-pink dress with enough frills to make Jinx feel nauseous. The girl's strawberry blonde hair was done in meticulous, careful corkscrew curls all around her head. She was surprisingly lofty, for having such a twiggy frame. Jinx wondered if maybe this one was actually older than thirteen or fourteen. There were a few dark red splotches along the front of the girl's dress, only noticeable when she stepped into the direct light.

Jinx hoped for her sake that they didn't belong to their hostage.

Ignoring the girl's greeting, Jinx walked closer to the doors, listening closely for any other voices or signs of life. "Where is he?"

The girl responded with sensible little chuckle. "Hasty, aren't we? It sounds as though you've made your choice. I'm glad you've grown up."

"Just let me see him. You're toast if all you've got left is a receipt," she answered, scowling. The girl didn't seem too perturbed by Jinx's threat, beckoning to be followed as she wandered further down the tunnel, her heels clicking against the damp concrete. "Is it just you here representing the, uh, People's Legion of Creepy… Children? Or whatever?"

The girl turned her head just slightly to smirk at Jinx, by far the most human emotion she had seen out of any of them. Jinx's eyebrows arched upward. "It would ruin the surprise if I told you." Well, that was comforting.

"Whatever you say," Jinx muttered. She didn't know just what the hell this crazy bitch was planning, and the looming possibility of there being legions of her armed friends waiting to crawl out of the woodwork was the only thing keeping Jinx from gunning her down right then and there.

The girl came to a stop a long way down the tunnel. If she hadn't stopped, Jinx probably wouldn't have noticed a door was even there. Its outline on the wall was faded, and there was no window or anything otherwise to indicate that the room was in use at all. No light filtered through the minuscule slot between the door and the ground.

After pausing for a moment, the blonde felt around next to the door, sliding a finger into a tiny little opening on the wall so she could pry open what looked like a control panel. She tugged on a little metal lever. There was a disproportionately loud grinding sound, followed immediately by the door swinging open of its own accord. It was dark as pitch inside, and anything only became visible as soon as the door was fully ajar.

The dim light that leaked into the room didn't illuminate much—not that there was much to see. She might have assumed the room was empty and that the blonde was just playing a cruel trick if it wasn't for the tiniest little sliver of a hand that only barely peeked into the light.

"Jayce…"

Giving the girl next to her a dirty look, Jinx marched into the room, feeling indignant. At least _she_ hadn't deprived his senses the way they were doing. As she got closer, his rough outline became easier to see. She knelt down in front of him, putting a hand on his bare shoulder so she could shake him awake. Her hand came away sticky.

He didn't answer. She held her hand out into the light so she could examine the dark red streak cutting across her hand.

"Jayce, come on. Wake up already. I'm here to dashingly save you, being the incredible hero I am." She tapped on the side of his face, getting as close to him as she could. At least he was still warm.

He groaned, which was more than she could have hoped for. Jinx looked back. The blonde was nowhere to be seen, so she guessed she was standing just outside her line of sight, probably just out of earshot if Jinx was really quiet.

"Listen. If you can. Maybe you can't, I don't know and I can't see you to see what's wrong with you. Did they tell you what they're doing? They want me to either let them sell you to all the people in Zaun that are _dying_ to have you for who-knows-why, or sell out a whole lot of people… _kids_ in Zaun, the kind me and my sister grew up with because they're causing issues for them."

It felt good to verbalize what she was thinking to someone that wasn't Fishbones. Even if Jayce couldn't answer like Fishbones did. Hell, she was pretty sure Jayce couldn't hear her anyway.

"I don't want them to do whatever it is they're gonna do to you, but those people in Zaun took care of me even after Vi went missing and went to Piltover and I can't just give the crazies what they need to take those poor kids out."

Jinx settled back on her haunches, bracing a hand on Fishbones and taking another look back to make sure she was whispering quietly enough. The girl was still not there in the doorway.

"So, they want… Well, they make it _sound_ like all they want is money, and to inconvenience me because of reasons. Do you know how much I'm worth in Piltover? Probably more than you're worth to the rich snobs in Zaun. I don't think they care for Viktor all that much there, so they're probably gonna be paying for your brain. Or your jawline."

Jinx swallowed hard, leaning further in so she could be quiet. Slowly, she settled her forehead on his, closing her eyes. She could feel his breaths against her face, slow and even, as if he was sleeping. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to move him into the light where she could assess the damage if he was in a lot of pain. She knew from experience that moving him while he was unconscious involved a lot of jerky, painful movements for him.

"So… I'm gonna ask if they'll let you and the kids in Zaun go if I let them turn me in and get the bounty. Do you think that's gonna work? Because… I don't know. I'm kinda scared. I don't want Vi to catch me. But I don't want _them_ to get hurt." Jinx's eyes stung. She was glad it was so dark, so on the off-chance Jayce was awake, he couldn't see her. "I don't want _you_ to get hurt. Not if I'm not the one hurting you."

She settled her lips over his, trying desperately to comfort herself, and intimate physical contact with him was the best she could do. A familiar tinge of copper lingered on his lips. Maybe she _didn't_ want to see just what damage had been done to him. He hadn't looked too roughed up when they had contacted her before. Why they would decide to hurt him while she was en route was beyond her.

Hesitating, Jinx got back up, reluctantly leaving him sitting there alone in that dark, damp room. Fishbones was chanting that something terrible was about to happen. Jinx didn't bother trying to silence him. She knew it was true.

"That was touching. I didn't realize that you were capable of speaking kindly to anyone," the girl stated as Jinx stepped out into the tunnel. The door swung shut behind her, and the blonde locked it up again, covering up the control panel. Jinx had some issues with that, but more pressing questions were on her mind.

"What… What did you do to him?" Jinx didn't bother dignifying _that_ with a response. The pink tinge on her face probably spoke for her.

The blonde let out a girlish giggle. Its echo through the tunnel made it sound much more sinister. She began walking back through the tunnel, beckoning once more for Jinx to follow her. "Don't worry about that, Jinx. I heard your… _interesting_ proposition. Let's talk about it somewhere more comfortable."

"Why did you hurt him before I even got here? Why did you hurt him at all?" Her fingers twitched on Fishbones.

"Shh. Just wait." The girl kept walking, and Jinx glared at her back until she turned into one of the well-lit rooms closer to the mouth of the tunnel.

The door leading into this room had a barred window on it. A light bulb, much brighter than the ones in the tunnel, hung in the center of the room, nearly resting on the single table that sat in the middle. Like the rest of the place, this room was filthy, only in here it was much easier to see the cobwebs and water damage covering every surface. Two upholstered armchairs were shoved haphazardly to the table.

"Go ahead and sit down, Jinx," she stated, pulling one of the large chairs out and placing herself in it fluidly. "So we can talk."

Jinx awkwardly yanked the chair on the other side out and sat down. It wheezed and exuded a musty smell as she sat, and the fabric felt damp beneath her legs. The offensive light in front of her nearly blinded her, although the other girl stared on, seemingly unbothered. Jinx wondered if she was blind or just not a human being.

"Now, I suppose I should let you know that the proposition you made… I would have to make that kind of a decision with higher-ups. This is a lot of money we're talking about, and you must know your value in Piltover. However…" She stood again, leaving Jinx wondering why she bothered sitting down at all in the first place. Jinx could hear footsteps echoing outside. _Great, more partygoers._

The blonde tore at her sleeve, the dress coming apart at the seam, revealing a large wound on her shoulder that had barely scabbed over. She burst into tears as she rushed to the doorway, grasping onto it. Jinx got to her feet as hastily as she could, nearly knocking the table and herself over as she shoved the chair back. She shouldered Fishbones instinctively, although the knockback and the collateral damage from firing a rocket in such a small space would probably harm her more. Pow-Pow would need time to spin up.

"She's in there! I-I don't know what she did with Jayce but…" the blonde sunk to her knees. "She's crazy! She's got her guns and I think she might have killed him when she found out I told!"

The blonde clambered out of the way as the concrete walls around the door collapsed in, sending debris everywhere and leaving a cloud of dust and mold so heavy that Jinx could barely breathe. A huge chunk of concrete caught her in the shoulder, sending her off her feet and onto her back. She landed uncomfortably right on top of Pow-Pow. Fishbones had landed with a crash a few feet away.

Before she could get up or stop coughing, something cold and metal had unceremoniously scooped her up by the neck, pinning her to the wall behind her.

The first thing Jinx saw when the light pierced through the dust was the tattoo: the distinctive "VI" marked just under her left eye. "I'm gonna put you away for a _long_ time for what you've done, psycho." Jinx didn't even have time to defend herself before she was face down on the ground.

* * *

"Shut the hell up! You know she'll freak out if we tell her that!"

"Tell who _what_?" Jinx asked, narrowing her eyes.

Everyone looked around at each other nervously. "Nothing you'd care about," Sunny, a girl around Jinx's age, muttered. She wasn't looking at Jinx, her long golden hair curtaining her face to hide her expression. No one was looking at her, and those that weren't eying random objects around the room nonchalantly were staring at the floor. For people who lied to live, they were pretty goddamn bad at it.

The blue-haired seventeen year old planted her hands on her narrow hips, wincing a little. She was still a little tender on the side she had gotten the tattoos on so recently. "What's going on? Stop hiding shit from me. You've all been sneaking around and avoiding me all day. Either you're planning a surprise party—preferable—or something happened and you guys are being dicks and not telling me. Do you think the tattoos are stupid? If you do I'll kill you."

"Nix came back from Piltover a few days ago," a white-haired kid named Ekko a few years younger than Jinx said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. Sunny swatted him in the ribs with the back of her hand to shut him up.

"Good for him. He's kind of a douche but that's no reason to—"

He didn't let her finish. "He saw Vi there. She's a cop now. He said she didn't recognize him or anything."

Jinx didn't answer for a long time. No one said anything else to her, either, although Sunny did reprimand Ekko for telling her what was going on.

"And… we're not gonna go get her?"

"There's no reason to. She doesn't remember. She's a cop in Piltover, why would she leave that for some stupid poor kids in Zaun? She's not cool anymore."

The thought of Vi just… _not remembering_ her made Jinx's heart sink. Her sister wasn't dead like she had thought for the past three years. The reason she didn't come back to her was even worse. She didn't know. She probably didn't _want_ to know, realistically.

_You could go join her,_ Fishbones said. _She would accept you if you went there and wanted to straighten out. This is your chance. You can still make good choices and settle down. Piltover's been good lately, you know._

Jinx ignored the gun's responsible rambling. She had been hearing its voice in her head, a logical tenor, since Vi had gone missing, and it was getting more and more frequent with the passage of time. It was so grown-up and reasonable. She hated it. Sometimes when she was alone late at night she would answer it and argue with its logic, even though it was always so maddeningly _right_.

But Ekko was right, as much as she hated to admit it. Although she would've done anything to get Vi back, she wouldn't be interested in coming back. There was no way.

"We didn't tell you because we knew you'd want to run off after her… But we don't wanna lose you like we lost her. Zaun needs you," Sunny stated. Jinx nodded. Why they didn't tell her was pretty reasonable. But the fact that they had been keeping it from her made her angry nonetheless.

"I… I gotta go. I'll see you guys around," she mumbled, turning around. "Come on, Fishbones. Let's go scope out some real estate."

* * *

**A/N:** Wow, this chapter is way short. That's mostly because I couldn't find anywhere to cut it off, and I didn't want to keep going and make you wait another 47 years for a longer chapter. Anyway, Ekko's been shoehorned in (and is probably not gonna be much more important than that because I only didn't want to come up with more names) and Vi is gonna be relevant again! We've only got a couple chapters left, but I've got a lot of ideas for more in the future after I get the other garbage out of my brain. As always, reviews and messages are always read and appreciated. I rarely answer reviews (it makes me feel like a creep), but I always respond to private messages if you're looking for responses! See you soon, hopefully!


	12. Love as Anathema

When Jayce first realized that somehow he was awake, his first thoughts were not questioning where he was or how the hell he was still alive when he felt like he had been pushed feet-first through a meat grinder. Although those were among the thoughts that followed soon after, the first thing that came to mind was, despite himself, of much greater importance to him: _Is Jinx okay?_

To his relief and chagrin, he couldn't feel the weight of her very literally sitting on his chest. That was probably a good thing, considering the tremendous amount of pain he was in.

Actually…

The tremendous amount of pain he was _supposed_ to be in, that he had been in when he had last been conscious, was not there. Maybe he _wasn't_ still alive. He wondered, assuming that he hadn't moved into the afterlife, how long he had been out. Given the tremendous difficulty he was having motivating himself to get his eyes open, he assumed he had either been asleep for either far too long or not long enough. Life seemed like a problem better suited to tomorrow's Jayce rather than today's, and he remained there, completely still, for a long time as he tried to get back to sleep before he even knew where he was. No one was sitting on him or kicking him in the ribs trying to wake him up and that was a luxury to which he hadn't been able to treat himself in a long time.

Despite his best efforts to sleep for another two or twelve hours, it didn't seem totally feasible. He wasn't totally sure he hadn't dreamt the darkness and the pain and all the things Jinx had said to him while he was there. He didn't think his mind would be cruel enough to fabricate all the things she had told him while he was too in pain to respond, his throat too clogged with his own blood to form a coherent response. _"I don't want you to get hurt. Not if I'm not the one hurting you."_

Jayce didn't want to think about it too much, didn't want to lend that too much thought until he had assessed the here and now. Pushing her voice to the back of his mind, he decided to focus on what he knew about what was going on without opening his eyes and letting anybody nearby know he was awake. He was on a bed, but whose it was didn't seem entirely clear. The only sound he could hear was the buzzing of lights overhead that had been left on too long. Although nearly every part of him was telling him to just go the hell back to sleep and face his life later, he managed to pry his eyes open.

The bright, intrusive light hit him first and Jayce immediately decided that he was being punished for being foolish enough to think he could do something like _wake up_. He threw an arm over his eyes and his shoulder thrummed with pain that shot down his arm, bolting through to his fingertips. Okay, so maybe the pain wasn't gone, and he definitely wasn't too dead to feel.

"Finally, you're awake. Caitlyn and Vi are so wound up they've had me planted here for way too long waiting for you to wake up. This place is too depressing to get any work done," a familiar voice beside him greeted. He hadn't heard that voice in way too long. "You'd think with a fancy title like 'Grandmaster Explorer' I'd get to do stuff that's a little bit more in the way of archaeology… Then again, I guess you can't very well watch yourself."

Jayce groaned, reaching gingerly to rub his eyes. He was propped up enough on the bed that he could look around. "Ezreal," he stated as firmly as he could, although his voice came out embarrassingly weak, "what's going on?"

"What? With you specifically?"

"If you don't mind."

The blond leaned forward, turning a book bound in cracked leather over in his hands. "Well, I can tell you what Cait and Vi have told me, and what I've heard from the people around the hospital, but that's not a whole ton of excruciating detail."

"Come on. Just tell me what you know."

"Well, they found you in this creepy tunnel under the inlet between Piltover and Zaun, which sounds to me like something Zaun built in their spare time. I guess some girl named Bunny or something let Caitlyn know that you were being held down there, so of course Vi ran off like a crazy person because the girl said that Jinx was the one keeping you there."

_Wrong,_ Jayce thought, but didn't interrupt. He really didn't know how to go about defending Jinx in front of anyone in Piltover without losing at least a little respect.

"So Vi gets there, finds Bunny and Jinx there, and of course first thing she does is haul Jinx in. They didn't find you for… Man, I don't know. Probably two days, give or take. You've been out for a little under a day, I guess. Except for right when you got here, you sort of woke up and demanded for us to, uh, take you to her? Not sure who _she_ is, but the doctors put you back out anyway."

So Jinx got caught. Jayce swallowed hard, pulling himself rather painfully into a sitting position before pulling on his collar so he could get a look at his torso. It was covered in stitches and raised wounds. He really hoped they weren't going to scar.

He couldn't imagine how afraid Jinx was, what Vi was doing to her. Jayce was racking his brain trying to remember word-for-word what Jinx had said to him before, in the tunnel. Hadn't she said she was going to let the slavers turn her in and get the bounty? For his sake?

Damn it! Why did he care so much? The menace that had been terrorizing Piltover had been caught and was going to be brought to justice—either by rotting in a jail cell or… probably something worse. Whatever it was that Vi was going to do to her wasn't going to be pleasant, and he was going to have to live with the fact that it was because of him. Because, for some unfathomable reason, she _cared_ about him. The thought of the guilt made a wave of nausea pass over him.

"What's going to happen to Jinx?" he asked quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't look at Ezreal, too afraid of his answer to make eye contact. Now he was really wishing he had just gone back to sleep. He definitely was not ready to face consciousness yet.

The prodigal explorer gave a noncommittal shrug. "I haven't been by to find out. I figure Vi is going to come up with something, but I know Caitlyn is making her go through due process anyway. She's still locked up, as far as I know."

Jayce nodded slowly, setting his jaw. So at least she was alive. His desire to see her only barely outweighed his desire to never see her again. He needed to know why she was giving up her life for the sake of his. _"I don't want you to get hurt. Not if I'm not the one hurting you."_ The words pounded through his head like a mantra, but they didn't make any more sense the fiftieth time than the first time.

"Do… Do you remember anything about what happened?" Ezreal inquired slowly, picking up on Jayce's strange, almost sad silence.

"She didn't do this. I'm not saying she's not guilty of a hell of a lot more than _that_, but she wasn't the one keeping me there. She was holding me captive before then, sure, but in a much more… uh, humane environment." He paused for a second, deciding whether divulging that much to even Ezreal was too much. "It wasn't that bad." _She isn't all that bad, either._

Ezreal scoffed playfully, getting to his feet and collecting his satchel, shoving the leather-bound notebook inside. "Wasn't that bad? Really? You didn't sit around and play board games that whole time, did you?"

"Well, no. I didn't want to get shot for beating her at _chess_. But she didn't _torture_ me or anything. I… honestly don't think that's really her style." He shoved the bedsheet off of himself and throwing his legs over the side of the lofty hospital bed. The room was pretty nondescript; the only adornment in the room that didn't serve a strict, obvious purpose was an oil painting of Piltover's skyline.

Jayce stretched, ignoring the achiness that stung at his muscles when he moved them. It felt good to move, even though he was a little bit wobbly at first when he stood up. Whether or not he was _allowed_ to get up didn't matter so much to him—he wasn't hooked up to a drip or anything and he wasn't exactly strapped down to the cot.

The explorer huffed, giving Jayce a suddenly concerned look. "What's going on with you? You're being really… weird about this. You seem so alright with everything that happened to you."

"What can I really do about—"

"But you didn't seem alright with what was going to happen to her. I'm not stupid." Jayce felt a lump in his throat, but he tried to look unconcerned as he went to a shelf by the door to the bathroom about waist-high. His clothes were there, although Jayce guessed they were taken from what was left of his home, since the clothes he had been wearing were probably still on Jinx's floor.

He offered a shrug, picking up his clothes and peeling off the white cotton shirt he had been wearing, his back to Ezreal. The stitched-up wound on his chest, now that he could see, was in an "X" that was connected at the bottom with a horizontal line. Jinx's symbol. Although he knew for sure that she hadn't put it there, he felt as though he was branded as her property.

"I don't know," he answered. "I felt bad. The only reason she was there to be caught by Vi was because those people—the group that girl was with—lured her there."

"Lured her there how exactly? With chocolate cake and a… a rocket launcher?"

Jayce sighed, opening the door to the bathroom and finding a full-body mirror hung up on the inside of the door. He reached up to scratch uncomfortably at the stubble that had appeared on his chin. He didn't look like the charming guy he had been before he had made the horrible mistake of hunting Jinx down for his stolen belongings. He looked like the slave he had almost become. His eyes were underlined by dark grey circles and his hair was a mess. Even worse, there was a huge purple bruise that started at the peak of his left cheekbone and sprawled out toward the bridge of his nose. He wanted to go home and shower and shave and stay inside until the bruises went away and the scars weren't noticeable anymore. He didn't look much like a Piltovian idol right now.

"No. They said they were going to sell me off to people in Zaun that were probably going to torture and kill me. She came so she could bargain with them for my life. If she hadn't shown up I'd be merchandise at an auction right now." His voice sounded a little edgier than he had meant for it to, and he hoped he didn't sound _too_ defensive—although, to Ezreal's credit, he was eerily good at picking up on everything Jayce was trying to cover up. It had been that way since Jayce had _met_ the kid.

Ezreal was quiet then, seemingly trying to analyze what he had just been told. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed with concentration. Jayce returned to the doorway leading back into the hospital room, leaning tiredly against the door jamb. A scowl bittered his expression, but it wasn't clear even to him whether it was because he had caught himself defending Jinx, or if it was because Ezreal had put him in a position where he was able to defend Jinx at all.

"She told me she was going to let them turn her in so they could get the money just the same. Vi caught her because she chose to let herself be caught, for my sake. She's so much smarter than we think." He turned around to wash his face in the bathroom sink, trying to act as though he wasn't defending Piltover's most dangerous and notorious criminal. He was really trying not to incriminate himself, even though he was fairly certain Ezreal wouldn't _tell on him_. Still, he didn't know if Ezreal wouldn't interpret Jayce's honesty as loyalty to Jinx.

"So… what? Why would she do that? Probably so she could… I don't know."

"I don't know either. The other option they gave her was to sell out some… Zaunite gangs she grew up with, I guess. I think she said they…"

The scared, empathetic tone in Jinx's voice wouldn't get out of her head. _"Those people in Zaun took care of me even after Vi went missing and went to Piltover and I can't just give the crazies what they need to take those poor kids out."_ What Jinx had said about Vi going missing and leaving her seemed too important to mention to Ezreal, a third party who had only a tenuous understanding of what's going on.

"…took care of her. I mean, seeing how she turned out, they can't have been great people, but she said they were causing trouble for the slavers. They must not have been all bad, either. Jinx is the same way." Jayce wanted to ask Ezreal if it was justified for him to feel like Jinx didn't deserve to have been caught. Not when she had decided to let herself be caught for Jayce's sake. He knew there was a huge bounty on her head in Piltover anyway, but she didn't deserve that. He hated that he cared so much.

Ezreal scratched the back of his head nervously. He had fallen silent again, and Jayce walked out of the bathroom and past him, going to the door that lead out into the hallway. He was a few steps out when he heard Ezreal talk again. "Hey, Jayce," he stated firmly. The inventor turned around to raise an eyebrow at him. "If she really loves you all that much, I won't tell Cait and Vi if you go see her."

Jayce swallowed hard. Love him? He tried not to show just how staggered he was at the prospect of that manic loving him… and at the prospect of loving her back. Maybe somewhere deep inside he cared about her, but _love_ was unfamiliar to him. He loved his work and he loved the City of Progress, but… he really, _really_ wanted to see her. That seemed crazy to him, since he had been actively avoiding her the entire time he was chained up in her house. Now that he had the option to dodge her until her inevitable trial, he was drawn to the place where she was being held.

And Ezreal seemed completely fine with it. Jayce felt like there were a lot of things he wasn't saying and a lot of opinions he wasn't voicing, but he knew better than to press harder for what Ezreal thought about it. His reputation—and his pride, as it stood—was fragile enough.

He nodded anyway, setting his jaw firmly. "Thanks."

* * *

"…Jayce?" a sleepy voice drawled from the mess of sheets on his bed. "Are you working again already? Come back and sleep some more."

He didn't even look back at her, still hunched over his workbench, using tools most people couldn't even guess the function of and going back and forth obsessively between the blueprints sprawled out across the table and the machine he was working on.

_Why are you still here?_ Jayce thought sullenly. That was really the biggest issue with bringing women back to his home: they were always surprised by how quickly he chose to get back to work, and offended when it became obvious that his work was more important than they were. He had foolishly brought this one back home last night after getting drunker than usual—drunk at all—and being told that she lived with an older sister that wouldn't approve.

Despite his annoyance, he chuckled at her. "I've got a lot of work to do and only so much time to do it, sweetheart." He couldn't remember her name or if she had ever even given it to him. It was probably too late to ask, especially since she definitely knew who he was. Most people in Piltover at least knew of him—he was the twenty-two year old engineering prodigy whose grasp on techmaturgy was unparalleled.

"Well, I guess we don't have to _sleep_," she pressed, the exaggerated flirtatious tone in her voice causing Jayce to finally glance back at her. Oh, but she was a pretty dark-haired thing, probably a little older than him, with lots going for her (especially in terms of curvature). If he had to guess, she was probably very used to getting her way in life. The second she noticed that he was finally looking at her, she let the sheet she had been holding to her clavicle fall back to the bed. "Come on back and I can show you what we _can_ do."

Very, _very_ used to getting her way, apparently.

Despite his libido telling him to go back to her, he turned around again, swallowing hard. He had commissions to do for the academy and he didn't doubt he would be cutting it close as it was—he was notorious for giving himself only _just_ enough time to meet deadlines. Otherwise he wasn't always sure he could be motivated to start and finish right when he needed to.

Still, it was always hard to turn a woman away gently, especially when they were so pretty and so desperate. He put down the wrench he was using, turning around in his chair to look at her. "I do have a whole lot to get done today, gorgeous, but how about we meet up again tonight?"

For a moment, she looked discontented, but her face lit up quickly. "Yeah, yeah! Let's do _that_. I like that idea. You're so smart and stuff; I love that so much about you."

_Good thing she's pretty._ Just the tone of her voice sounded so ditzy it seemed manufactured. Realistically, it probably was. Too many girls seemed to think that he was so arrogant that making himself seem smarter in comparison was the way to his heart. While a lot of the time it did help, sometimes all he wanted was to have an intelligent conversation about the things he was interested in and the things he was _doing_, not the things he had already done. He knew that most people would stare at him like he had two heads if he talked frankly about the projects he was working on (not counting the girls that seemed to get off on hearing him say big words).

Jayce thought to ask for her name as she scrambled to get her clothes on and get out of his workshop, but decided that he was definitely in too far now that he had offered her a second date (although they had really skipped the formality of a first date).

"See you tonight, handsome! I'll wear something nice!" she called as she blew him a kiss, flouncing out of the doorway into the busy street.

* * *

Although he desperately wanted to go to the Piltover law enforcement office to see what was going on there, the first thing Jayce did after getting out of the hospital was head home to check the state of his poor roof and get himself satisfactorily cleaned up.

His laboratory had been cleaned up. The rubble was all gone and the furniture that had been smashed was all replaced, to his relief. All of his creations were still missing, to his chagrin, although he figured it made sense that they wouldn't have found it if it was still being stored where Jinx lived. His Mercury Hammer was still being stored in her home, too, and that was definitely the most important thing he needed to get back.

Despite the huge gaps left by his stolen belongings, his workshop looked better than it did before. Whoever had been in charge of pulling the place back together had gone a little too far, cleaning up messes that had been there even before his roof had collapsed in. His bed, which had been crushed, its frame splintered completely, had been replaced by one that was almost definitely bigger. He reminded himself to find out who he had to repay, although he selfishly reminded himself that he probably wasn't expected to.

The hole in the ceiling itself wasn't fixed, although it had been covered up by what looked like a large vinyl tarp. He figured he could dismiss whoever was working on his house now, since an issue like that was something he could do himself—something he preferred to do himself, really.

"You could have gotten away with laying around at the hospital for a little while longer, you know."

Caitlyn was seated at his desk, paging through a book with a huge picture of what looked like Mount Targon on the front. She didn't look up at him from under the tall purple hat she wore.

"I know that. I'm just a little homesick, if you can believe that," he answered dryly, passing her to get to his new bed.

Quite primly, she went on. "I made sure all your broken things were replaced. I told them to leave your roof alone, since you would probably want something to do once you got situated back in town."

"Noted. I appreciate it, Caitlyn." He stretched to pop his spine before he sat down on the bed. It was a lot more comfortable, too, and he figured it would be a nice change of pace for him to sleep in a bed that he owned. Jinx's bed hadn't been too bad, but her affinity for pillows had been a little much.

Finally the sheriff gave him a sidelong glance. Jayce looked back at her, narrowing his eyes as if to ask her what she wanted. "You're looking rather beaten up." She swiped the pad of her thumb across her tongue before flicking a page over.

"Not half as beaten up as I feel, but at least I can make myself more presentable. I'm not a fan of the bruise, though," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "What brings you here, anyway? I was planning on heading down to see you and Vi right as soon as I pulled myself together."

"Ezreal radioed that you had just left the hospital and I was nearby. This whole thing has made me want to tear my hair out, honestly. I figured I would come check on you. I wasn't there when our officers finally broke you out of there, but I heard it was pretty gruesome." She paused for a moment to take a sip of the tea she had sitting on the desk. "And it's quieter here."

Jayce raised his eyebrows. "Vi?"

Caitlyn nodded, sighing impatiently. "She and the little psycho have been making a racket yelling since she's been there. I've considered moving her without telling Vi, but I know she would tear up the town trying to find her so she could keep antagonizing her."

"What does Vi want to happen to her?"

She took her time responding. "I'm… not really sure, to be honest. I know Vi isn't hugely a fan of _due process_, but I know if she had caught Jinx in the act of blowing up our city she probably would've killed her on sight, maybe on accident. And that would have been fine. But now that we _have_ her in custody, where she can't escape, I'm not sure even Vi knows what she wants to do with her."

"What about you?"

"I think a long, _long_ stay in prison with some of our rehabilitation programs will go a long way. She's pretty far gone, but she's still coherent and that's enough to convince me she can be normal. What do you think? I mean, this is all 'off the record', so to speak, since I'm going to have to ask you what happened, at least in court, but do you think she can be rehabilitated?"

Jayce couldn't really see Jinx being a normal member of society, with a nine-to-five job and normal relationships with other people. Still, anything that could convince Caitlyn (and, at some point, Vi) to spare Jinx Piltover's rare death penalty would help. "I think so. I don't know if Ezreal mentioned it, but Jinx wasn't the one keeping me where I was found. I'll tell you about that whenever you need to know, but she wasn't… _that_ bad when she was around. The elevator doesn't go to the top floor, so they say, but I think it could get there."

"Sounds awfully forgiving of you, Jayce. I forget sometimes that you're not Vi and you understand things like mercy," she chuckled.

He shrugged, leaning back so he could lie down on his bed, hands behind his head. "I think Vi could figure it out. Lots of things don't deserve mercy and what Jinx has done is pretty bad, but I think she's not too far gone to make it back, with some time. She's not like those people that open fire on crowds and don't even have the sense to realize what they did was even all that bad. There's still some recognition there. You'd see it, too."

Jayce wondered if he should tell her what he told Ezreal not too long ago about what Jinx had done for him. But if Ezreal had gotten the feeling that it was because she loved him, Caitlyn would pick up on that before he had even finished talking. Where Ezreal's sense of empathy came from a long time being friends with Jayce, Caitlyn had that plus years of experience with criminals who often lied. It was common knowledge in Piltover that it was just next to impossible to lie to Caitlyn about anything.

"I suppose we'll see if Vi feels the same way. I mean, she certainly isn't in _charge_ of the girl's fate, but she did claim this to be her case. It has been since she's shown up… You know, especially since it seems as though she's been targeting Vi almost exclusively."

"Almost," Jayce echoed. He was tired and he was still achy, but it was nice to have some Piltovian company that didn't seem inexplicably convinced off the smallest shred of evidence that Jinx was completely enamored with him. Besides, he didn't want Vi or Caitlyn around when he went to see her. He didn't trust himself enough to think that nothing would happen. In fact, things had been happening a whole lot up until he had been literally _dragged_ from her house after doing something he could easily see himself never admitting to anyone in Piltover.

"Speaking of 'almost'," Caitlyn went on, closing her book and picking up the cutesy little blue porcelain cup she was drinking out of, "did you ever find out why she took all your things? No one was able to find them in the tunnels."

He shook his head. "Can we talk about that tomorrow or whenever you need me to actually talk, uh, 'on the record' or…? I'm… a little bit through talking about _that_ for now. You understand."

Caitlyn gave a perceptive nod. "Of course. There's much to do, but now that you're home safe and Jinx is in our possession, we've plenty of time to speak and act. I understand if—" A little handheld radio sitting on the desk suddenly beeped obnoxiously. Caitlyn rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath as she went to pick it up. Jayce lifted himself up onto his elbows. "What is it?"

"Hey, cupcake, there's, um… Fuck." Jayce could make out Jinx's voice yelling indistinctly in the background. "Shut the hell up, you scrawny little—Whatever. So I finally got her to talk. It's not exactly a tell-all you'd hear on a talk show or anything, but it's pretty damn close and you'd better get back here."

A few deep breaths later, Caitlyn finally answered. "Can it wait?"

"It can, but it's pretty impatient. Did you get a hold of Jayce?"

"I'm with him right now, Vi. He's just out of the hospital." Caitlyn's voice sounded like a warning, and Jayce was sure that whatever she was warning against, her partner was ready to ignore it.

The radio crackled as Vi laughed with excitement. Jayce really didn't want to know what Jinx had said, but he hoped it didn't incriminate him in any way. Piltover's enforcer didn't sound anywhere near angry enough to make him think so. "Oh, great! Bring him along, too, cupcake. I wanna be around to see him cry when he hears some of this." Jinx's voice could be heard again before the sound on the radio cut out once more.

That made Jayce's stomach drop. He shook his head at Caitlyn, cutting a hand across his throat to make it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with whatever Vi wanted to drag him in to tell him. "I don't think he wants to come and see her so soon. I'll come back to the office, though, and we can just have him come in tomorrow. Is that alright with you?"

"Ugh, I guess. Hurry up. You're gonna _love_ this."

Caitlyn got to her feet, clipping the radio to her belt and pinching the bridge of her nose. She collected her book and her tea as well. "Are you alright to come in tomorrow? If you want a few days to gather your bearings, Vi will understand… or, at least, I'll make her put up with it."

Jayce nodded. "I'll be fine to come in tomorrow. I'd rather not sit in this empty building all day, anyway."

She raised her cup of tea to him as she headed for the door. "See you then. Do try to have a pleasant evening, difficult as that will be."

"I'll do my best, officer."

* * *

"Camilla, I know you wouldn't understand—" Jayce tried to explain patiently. His patience was cut short as a screwdriver whizzed by his head, narrowly missing his ear as it stuck in the wall behind him.

"What does someone have to do to _date_ you?! It's not like everybody doesn't _worship_ the ground you walk on!" Her voice cut shrilly through the air as Jayce reached over his shoulder to yank the screwdriver out of the wall.

He sighed, throwing the tool on the ground so she wouldn't think he was planning on attacking her with it. From the few days he had known her, it had been glaringly obvious that she would follow that exact train of thought. "I already told you: it's not something with you, I just don't—"

"It's always 'it's not you, it's me' with you, isn't it? What kind of person just doesn't date? Is it because you'd just rather just fuck dumb girls like me who fall all over themselves for you?"

Jayce almost wanted to tell her yes. At least _that_ explanation made sense to her, even if she was probably going to come over and bludgeon him with something else from his workbench for saying it. Commitment had always been a fear of his that he had never been able to attach a reason to.

"No! I'm okay with being friends, if that's what you want."

"What, so you can have sex with me without having to put up with me?"

"I don't want to sleep with you!" _That_ was definitely not the right thing to say.

Camilla chucked a wrench at him. It didn't even come close to hitting him, although he twitched slightly out of the way before it made contact with the wall. She had to run out of stuff to throw at him eventually, and he really didn't want to get close enough for her to use her wicked nails on him. He was definitely stronger than she was, but grappling with her was an extremely unappealing thought.

"Fuck you, Jayce! I loved you but you don't care about anyone but yourself!"

Jayce's stomach churned at "love". At this point, he wasn't even sure he _liked_ this psychopath. How she could possibly determine that she loved him after knowing him for only a few days was beyond his comprehension. He didn't care much for the idea of love and he was absolutely mortified by the idea of making a commitment to someone who thought they loved him.

"Camilla, if that's what you want to believe, that's up to you. But I think you really need to leave."

She sputtered and fumed for a few seconds as if she was short-circuiting. If that was the case, it was her fault she had thrown the wrench at him. "I'm going to tell _everyone_ what a horrible, horrible person you are!"

"Just go."

The dark-haired girl stomped back to the door, turning to pin him with an accusatory glare in the doorway. "And I'm gonna say you're _selfish_ in bed!" she spat, slamming the door behind her so sharply it was a wonder she didn't catch her hair in it.

If nothing else, the outrage that resulted from him rejecting her—gently, as he had thought—was just further proof that it was just way too risky to love or commit to someone without knowing every single little detail about them. People were just too hard to love.

* * *

**A/N:** Three cheers for taking less than two billion years to update! This chapter is longer (like, just a little less than twice as long than the last chapter), even though less happens (and I know how much everyone loves chapters where _nothing happens_, right guys? ...guys?). Like always, I _am_ actually getting to something with this. Jinx is gonna actually be in the next chapter, for real, even though Ezreal is pretty much close enough (ain't he cute?). I've been a little distracted working on other things that I'm writing (even though I'm not _actually_ getting anything publishable done). I know. I kinda suck.

Like always, reviews are always appreciated and I'll update as soon as I can (ugh summer classes, another three cheers for changing your major and trying to catch up as fast as possible). I've also made the executive decision to bump this guy down to T, after reading some of the smut other M-rated stories are (did I say reading?) and seeing how far the limits of the T-rating are pushed. Anyway, see you soon!


	13. Trust, Love, and Other Forms of Insanity

Jayce was not surprised to find that getting sleep was a troublesome task. After Caitlyn had finally left, he had wandered listlessly around his lab for hours. The hole in the ceiling, even with the tarp over it, was a glaringly obvious mistake that he was itching to fix. He wished that Caitlyn hadn't cleaned the entire lab otherwise, just to leave him something to do when he was alone at night. It was hard to justify climbing up onto the roof after midnight and starting work patching up the chasm Jinx had left there.

He had thought that a conscious night without Jinx would do him some good. It seemed like a pretty reasonable thought: he hadn't chosen to be with her in the first place, and he hadn't been able to choose to be alone in what felt like a long time.

Even now, though, it didn't really feel like he was choosing to be alone at all. After such a long time literally trapped with her, he couldn't believe that he was _lonely_. It didn't feel right running off in the middle of the night to look for some girl to fill his bed for a night, especially not after he had just gotten out of the hospital. Besides, the thought of some random woman lying beside him made him feel… sick.

Why couldn't he stop _thinking_ long enough for him to even lie down? What Ezreal had said kept turning over in his mind, an intrusive thought that clung to every thought like a plague. That one stupid little word—"love"—made its mark on everything in his brain. She loved him. She had given up her freedom and her livelihood in a desperate exchange for his. The tone of her voice when she had been speaking to him while she thought he was entirely unconscious… He hated that it made sense.

Thinking about what Ezreal said and about all the things Jinx had done for his sake only made him feel guiltier. What could he have done differently? The list went on and on. If he had let Piltover launch an investigation on all the things Jinx had taken instead of deciding to be a hero and go himself, he probably still wouldn't have his things back—now he was missing everything she had taken as well as his Mercury Hammer—but she would still be at home and he wouldn't be pacing his lab like a nervous wreck. If only he hadn't tried to be nice to her, if only he had stonewalled her the way he meant to, if only he hadn't gotten so vulnerable and slept with her…

It was easy for him to berate himself while he was there alone, stewing in the horrible consequences of his even worse choices. But when it came time to make some real decisions, something about her made it hard to do the reasonable thing. The Sentinel of Piltover was responsible for keeping the city safe, yet _she_ made it so easy to ignore his duties in lieu of much more selfish pursuits. There really was no way to sugarcoat it: he had a soft spot for her, and even acknowledging that much felt to him like treason. He couldn't despise her the way Vi did.

Jayce didn't think he even _had_ the mental or emotional energy to think about Vi and what her relationship with Jinx was. He was curious, though he didn't think he would be able to handle _that_ much more on top of all the other things burdening him. Maybe he would ask, if he got the chance.

It took him a little while to pull himself together enough to decide to leave the lab, and by then, it was nearly two in the morning. For the first time, he felt like the lab was suffocating him, and he couldn't even find himself motivated enough to get work done.

He didn't have anywhere particular in mind he could walk. There were several pubs of varying levels of sleaze he knew he could go to, but the oppressive amounts of noise and stale air in most bars didn't sit well with him. It felt nice to get fresh air, even if it was dark out and a little chilly. He hadn't been able to stretch his legs and be outside lately, and he tried to focus on _that_, as opposed to the strange feeling of desolation that was bearing down on his shoulders.

It was less than an hour before Jayce found himself in front of the sheriff's office. Jinx was probably being held here in one of the cells Caitlyn usually left pending cases in, if not in the prison itself. He waited outside for a little bit, trying to detect any movement through the smoked glass of the door. He certainly couldn't hear anything going on inside. There was a light on, although it seemed like it was mostly dark on the inside.

Letting his forehead rest against the glass, he knocked gently on the door, as if he was afraid of the neighbors hearing that he was there. Really, despite the overbearing loneliness, he didn't really want to be caught out in the middle of the night, skulking around like some sort of criminal. People would think he had lost his mind and had taken up sleepwalking. No one called out from within the office, both to his chagrin and his relief. If anyone was inside, they were either asleep or unaware. If Jinx was inside, he was guessing the first. She would find any reason to make as much noise as humanly possible, especially if she knew someone was there.

Although he knew he had no business whatsoever snooping around inside when Caitlyn and Vi weren't around, he tried the door.

Locked.

Jayce sighed, even though he knew it was reasonable to assume in the first place that it would have been locked. It was probably a good thing that it was locked; that usually meant no one was inside, although it wasn't entirely unheard of for Caitlyn to be in her office at unreasonable hours, usually finishing up paperwork that Vi had neglected to bother with.

Then again, if it had been unlocked, he could have strolled right in and told whoever was inside that he couldn't sleep so he was on a walk and happened to pass by. True as all that was, any excuse for being at the sheriff's office at three in the morning felt like a lie. He wouldn't have minded so much if Caitlyn had been inside, but he didn't think he had the energy to put up with Vi, especially if she was still bouncing off the walls since she had finally caught Jinx.

His first instinct was to turn around and leave dejectedly, resolving to return tomorrow to hear from Vi what Jinx had apparently admitted, but he didn't get more than a few steps away before he slowed to a stop again. He needed to talk to her alone, away from Vi and Caitlyn. The intrusive thought remained: what if Ezreal was right about Jinx's motivations? It was a sick thought to even entertain, even sicker to investigate, but…

What if it was true?

That was a daunting thought that he knew he couldn't deal with, especially not in Vi's company. And he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right until he had an answer for sure. He needed more than anything to see her, to talk to her, to touch her. He hated himself for being too weak to resist her. She was a long way from being "charming" or even Jayce's type. It would hopefully be easier to figure out what he was thinking after he knew what she was thinking. And he had a sickened feeling that he already knew.

There was a little piece of metal on one of his belt loops that was itching to be used. He reached for the keyring he kept on his belt, detaching it gingerly and thumbing through keys until he found one of the few that didn't have a tag or a marker on it otherwise. Caitlyn said she kept the keys to her office unmarked so anyone who happened upon one of them wouldn't know where it lead right away.

He knew that going into Caitlyn's office for something like _this_, whatever it might have been, was a breach of trust and an abuse of power as the named Sentinel of Piltover, but it seemed safe enough since no one was nearby. Ignoring the guilt bearing down on him, settling atop the loneliness, Jayce unlocked the door and went on inside.

* * *

Jinx shivered slightly, pulling her knees up to her chest and sullenly wrapping her arms around her legs. She was drowsy, trapped just on the border of sleep, but she couldn't make herself just close her eyes and drift off the way she wanted.

The holding cell they had popped her in was surprisingly… accommodating. It wasn't cold, although she really wished it was so she would at least have something to bitch about. A little bathroom, just big enough to contain what it needed, had a curtain around it to offer some semblance of privacy. There was a little metal-framed cot at the far end of the chamber opposite her. Jinx ignored that; it wasn't too uncomfortable but it was in plain sight of anyone who came inside the sheriff's office. She didn't want anyone to see her if they didn't need to.

By far the worst part of the cell was chain bolted into the concrete of the wall, the other end of which had a cuff on it that was secured around her ankle. She figured that was just karmic justice coming for her. A bad feeling resided in the pit of her stomach that the cuff was just the first thing in a lengthy, excruciating _chain_ of karmic justice.

It wouldn't have been so bad, being chained up, if it wasn't for Vi. The constant gloating and taunting made the fact that she was chained to the wall and trapped behind bars unbearable. She felt like an animal at the zoo (although she had destroyed Piltover's, letting the animals loose on the streets), constantly being jeered and laughed at.

So much time had passed since she had been forced to sit and talk with Vi without a gun in her hand, without things burning left and right, buildings crumbling everywhere. Jinx knew that Vi didn't remember her. That didn't stop Jinx from testing out what Vi knew of her, but it became too clear that she had no idea where she had come from or who she really was. Learning of Vi's departure from Zaun had hurt more than the belief that she was dead, and Jinx had considered herself _over it_ for a long, long time. But the longer Vi cruelly taunted her, the worse her heartache got. The only family she had left in the world hated her. Who was once her best friend, her protector, was now her worst enemy. And Jinx's life likely sat delicately in the palm of Vi's hand, ready to be crushed on a whim.

That probably meant that she was pretty screwed. However, doomed as she was to crumble at the large techmaturgical hands of Piltover law enforcement, she had still broken and let one little thing slip. Relative to all the other _huge_ things she could have told Vi, that little thing seemed insignificant to Jinx. Vi had gotten really excited after Jinx had mentioned that she had been watching Jayce for a long time, even going so far as to radio to the stupid Hat Lady (who sighed and added that to the long, _long_ list of crimes she was accused of doing).

Jayce already knew that Jinx had been watching him, although she hadn't previously mentioned that she had been sitting in front of that screen obsessively. Then again, at the time, Jayce had much bigger problems to worry about. Being reminded just how obsessed with him she really was probably wouldn't improve her standing with him any. Vi didn't know what had happened. Jinx was perfectly willing to let Jayce inform the police in great detail of his stay at the Hotel Jinx. He was going to end up being the hero, anyway. He was a poster boy and a naturally-born protagonist. Unfortunately, Jinx had never experienced the luxury of being the good guy. Given that she was sitting in a cell awaiting her fate, she doubted she would ever get the opportunity to experience that luxury.

Despite all that—despite Vi, Piltover, Zaun, Jayce, and _everything_ else—the criminal felt strangely _okay_ with the fact that she had been caught. It had been a long time coming, but she hadn't expected it to happen of her own volition. She really hadn't expected herself to offer her freedom in exchange for that of another person. A Piltovian person, no less.

The chime of a little bell followed by the squeal of the door's hinges made her jump. Looking at the clock on the other end of the room, by one of the stupid hat lady's file cabinets, it wasn't even really morning yet. Three AM didn't really quantify as "morning", especially not to Jinx.

She was curious who it was, but she was too tired and too moody to crawl forward to try to get a good look at them. The intruder took their time getting moving. The door clicked shut and Jinx put her forehead down on her knees, shutting her eyes and ignoring the footsteps. They were too heavy to be Caitlyn's, so she guessed that it was either a man or Vi. They hadn't started yelling and taunting her like a zoo animal, so she figured it probably wasn't Vi. Probably an officer or… something.

It didn't seem worth the effort to try to pick a fight with someone when she was so tired. Jinx knew she _could_ come up with some way to escape… She just needed time. Unfortunately, she didn't really have a whole ton of that particular asset on her side, especially not if Vi's threats weren't totally empty. Jinx wasn't so fond of being locked up for the rest of her life. She would probably kill herself before she let Vi stick her in a cell to rot out a couple decades.

The footsteps grew closer, and then stopped. The light of the office that had been filtering its way through her eyelids was gone. Finally she looked up, squinting through the shadow to see who it was.

"Isn't three in the morning past your bedtime, Jayce?" asked Jinx, trying her best to make it clear that was a jab at his expense. Still, she could tell right away that her expression had softened. He didn't say anything, just looked at her with something that Jinx could only associate with… pity? It was the sort of sad, helpless look a bystander would have as they watched a building burn to the ground.

She knew _that_ look better than most.

Jinx put her hands on the ground in front of her, using them to push herself up onto her feet as she edged closer, trying to get a better look at him. Even with the huge bruise that sprawled across his face, he looked like an advertisement for the Piltovian spirit. Still, if the bruise was all she _could_ see, she didn't want to think about the kind of damage she _couldn't_ see.

The chain scraped against the concrete of the cell's floor as she moved. She tried to ignore the intrusive sound, and the even more intrusive guilt that she had been subjecting him to _that_ sound when she had been the one holding all the cards.

"Wow, hell of a bruise," she observed quietly as she crept up to the bars. With a hand she hadn't realized was shaking, she reached up to touch it. "I wish I could've put it there." Her voice was starting to give out on her. Why wouldn't he just say something so she didn't have to talk to him?

Her fingertips only grazed the side of his face when he reached up to grab her hand and jerking her toward him, into the bars. His hands came up to pull her face towards his as he bent down to firmly press his lips against hers with the confidence and spontaneity of someone who wasn't supposed to specifically _not_ being doing that. Jinx could feel the cold, troublesome bars of the cell pushing up against the sides of her face, an inconvenient reminder that she was no longer free to do with him as she pleased. If she hadn't spent so long torturing him, he might not have been so reluctant to let her near him in the first place. She still didn't know why he was so _okay_ with it now.

Shakily her fingers found purchase on him, coming to rest along his jawline with a docility she was still unfamiliar with having. Jayce's skin was soft. He had probably shaved right after going home, and he smelled nice, like aftershave and diesel. She hated the bars keeping her from him.

He jerked away from her suddenly, as if she had affronted him. As if _he_ hadn't kissed her first. Jinx's hands shot to the bars, holding onto them with a white-knuckled grip. She watched him whirl around on his heel, placing one hand on his forehead.

After pacing back and forth for a second, he stopped and pinned her with a glare. "Why are you so _stupid_?!" he snapped. Jinx narrowed her eyes at him.

"What the hell did I—"

The sad look was much more desperate and angry now. He stood a few feet away from the bars. The artificial light overhead made the dark circles under his eyes so much more pronounced. The bruise marring one side of his face really wasn't helping his "look" either. "Why would you just let them take you? You could have blown that stupid place to bits and gotten out fine!"

Jinx crossed her arms, settling her weight onto one leg. "As it _happens_, I already told you. It's not my problem if you were presently too dead to listen." She hadn't known if he was even remotely conscious while she was talking to him. The only affirmation she had that he was alive at all was a pained groan.

He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. "I can't believe you. You just _let_ Vi throw you in here. Why would you trust that Bunny wasn't going to sell you out for the bounty without holding up her end of the bargain?"

"…what?"

Jayce sighed impatiently. "I was trapped in there for _three days_. She probably would have come back and hauled me off the second the Piltover police left. Why would you trust them?!"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call her up and tell her all my deepest secrets! I was in kind of a time crunch there, and I doubt she would have let me sit around and think up the best way to fuck _her_ over! Besides, I… I got set up anyway. Right after I told her I was willing to self myself out to Vi, there she was. Right there waiting for me." Jinx planted her hands on her hips, shaking her head moodily. "Dammit. She only knows how to find me when it's not convenient for me. That evil bitch."

"You really shouldn't have come if it was obviously a trap, then!"

She rolled her eyes at him, pacing in her cell. "Well, I'll remember that next time when I rush to save the princess and slay the dragon, then! You don't really sound all that grateful even though I'm the one who got bent over the counter and fucked by the law! I'm the one in the people-cage here, not you. So don't be a dick about it. I don't wanna be trapped here in Idiotville any more than you want to trapped in Zaun."

Jayce approached the bars again, resting an arm across them as he stared down at her, brows furrowed perplexedly. His voice was quiet when he spoke again. "Why would you _ever_ trade your freedom for mine?"

It took a little while for her to answer. He had mercilessly put her on the spot and demanded an answer to a question that she had still been grappling with. "I… I guess I don't know, okay?" She didn't regret her decision at all, but exactly _why_ was much less clear.

"Then figure it out already, Jinx! Just... Just give me something so I can stop thinking about it! The only reason I'm here is because it's keeping me awake." The outrage that had shown on his face and in his voice before was gone without a trace now. All that was left was the desperation.

Again, Jinx faltered. She tugged at one long blue braid, looking away apprehensively. "Maybe… I got sick of running around and hiding from the law," she lied. Jayce looked disappointed, not even momentarily convinced that she was telling the truth.

"No," he answered softly, "that's not why."

"Do you have any idea what they were going to do to you? Whoever got a hold of you if I let them keep you was going to torture you for fun for... who knows how long, and then they were probably gonna kill you after. You're _worth_ a lot more than I am, in a lot of ways. Whatever it is that they're gonna do to me is gonna be a hell of a lot less painful than what was _going_ to happen to you. I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I know that." His expression was solemn except for the worried look in his eyes, as if he was afraid of what was happening… of what was _going_ to happen. If she hadn't given him the answer he wanted, she didn't know what else he wanted to hear from her. "Why did it matter to you?"

When she opened her mouth to speak, to say _anything_, her voice faltered. Jinx got the feeling she knew exactly what he was waiting for her to say. The prospect of lying to him didn't scare her at all. It was the thought of telling the truth that absolutely petrified her. She shook her head, feeling her lips start to tremble. Her eyes were beginning to mist over. Her voice was doggedly refusing to come out solidly, and that, layered on top of the fact that she was almost that she was going to cry in front of him, made her wish that Vi had killed her on sight. "Jayce, come on… Don't make me—"

"Just say it." He was insistent, his voice sharp. Jinx swallowed hard, slowly approaching him and taking hold of the bars in her hands again. She looked up at him, although she was immensely tempted to turn her gaze. "Please."

"I… I think I love you."

Before she had a chance to gauge his reaction, she forced her eyes shut, her tears finally letting loose and spilling over her eyelashes. She backed up until she hit the wall where she had been trying to sleep before, sinking down until she was sitting on the floor.

"I'm so sorry. What a terrible, bitchy thing for me to do to you," she managed to choke out, covering her eyes miserably.

Minutes passed, and Jinx wondered if Jayce had managed to sneak out without her noticing. She wouldn't have blamed him if he had just strolled out on her. If a confession of love (that she herself hadn't accepted until the moment she said it to him out loud) hadn't been the "it" he had been looking for her to say, then she had _really_ just fucked herself over big time.

"Jinx," he stated firmly to get her attention. She didn't look up at him. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her sobbing like a preteen who had just been dumped by her first boyfriend. "I need to come in here tomorrow to talk to Vi and Caitlyn. Vi said last night that you told her something pretty important, but _don't_ tell her anything else. I'm going to do my best to make sure that this works out in your favor."

There were his footsteps again. He was leaving. She had to gasp a few times to get her voice back quickly enough. Two of her fingers parted just enough that she could see him through the hand she had over her eyes. He was at the door. "But why?" she cried out, hoping she was coherent enough for an answer.

He didn't so much as bother to look back at her as he opened the door, lingering in the doorway for just a moment, seemingly mulling over his answer. "I… don't want you to get hurt. Not if _I'm_ not the one hurting you."

* * *

"Morning, Jayce! You look like shit."

Jayce exhaled, laughing quietly as he rubbed a knot out of the back of his neck. His sleep had been less than peaceful the previous night. Altogether he figured he had only gotten around three hours of genuine sleep. His back was sore from moving around so much last night, getting up and laying back down constantly. "Yeah, I've been getting that. I don't feel so great, either. I bet _you're_ over the moon right about now, though."

Vi cracked a grin, leaning against the side of the sheriff's office and crossing her arms. In one hand she was holding a hot pink mug of coffee. "I'm pretty damn chipper, thanks. Barely slept last night, I was so excited. Let's go inside. I told Cait what the little psycho said last night and I swear, she's so stressy lately her head almost exploded. It was pretty exciting. Let's go in; I want to see the look on her face when I tell you. And the look on your face."

She pushed herself up off the side of the building, turning to reach for the door. Jayce hadn't bothered to ask how much Jinx had said. Hell, he had run away from her like a coward before he had been able to ask Jinx what she meant about Vi going missing before.

"Wait up, Vi. Can I just… talk to you for a second out here? It should be quick."

Vi shrugged, pulling her arm back from the door to cross them again. She wasn't wearing her gargantuan hextech gauntlets, but Jayce doubted she needed to if she was going to just be in the office with Jinx. Caitlyn wasn't nearly cruel or powerful enough to send her to do something else. "Yeah, if you need to. What's up, buttercup?"

Jayce looked away for a second, trying to come up with the most tactful way to ask her about something that seemed so fragile. What if it was a secret that Jinx was meant to keep? He didn't particularly want Vi to run in there and choke Jinx to death, but… he needed that much closure.

"Well… Where do you think Jinx came from?"

"Does 'the deepest pit of the fieriest hell' count as an answer?" she deadpanned. Jayce didn't laugh, although he was definitely more than a little tempted to say yes. After eyeing him down suspiciously, she shrugged. "I have no fucking clue, and not for lack of trying. I asked her before, but she's pretty hard to pin down. Not in any databases from Piltover, but it's not like 'scrawny blue-haired maniac named Jinx' is what's on her birth certificate. Not from Piltover. So I'd say Zaun, probably, if I had to guess, but a lot of her guns look like the kind of tech we make here in Piltover. I sent the stupid launcher she drew all over and the minigun with rabbit ears on it to the academy to be inspected. She won't tell me jack shit."

"And you… don't know where you come from?" Jayce had been over that with Vi before, plenty. She hadn't shown up in Piltover until he was seventeen or eighteen, if his memory served him right. There was plenty of talk at the academy about those hextech gauntlets of hers. A criminal amongst criminals being sought out by the Sheriff was pretty big news. The town had gossiped for days after discovering that Caitlyn had recruited her to the force.

With an impatient huff, Vi rolled her eyes. "Are you going somewhere with this? Cut to the chase, 'cause if not, I've got somewhere to be. You know the answer to that question."

Jayce really didn't want to unload Vi's possible origins on her all at once due to her impatience, but he knew she would definitely just walk away from him if he kept stringing her along. "Fine, whatever you say. While I was locked up in that underground _whatever_, Jinx came in to talk to me. At one point, she was telling me about a group of kids in Zaun that used to take care of her… well, after you went missing and ran off to Piltover."

Vi stared, it took her fairly long to process the information. Jayce suddenly felt guilty, as If maybe he should have urged Jinx to talk to her about it, but it was too late. Besides, if Vi was being nearly as boisterous and unreasonable as Caitlyn made her seem, there was just no way Vi would listen to Jinx long enough. "…what?"

"Long story short, it sounds a lot like she knows you. Or knew you, I guess would be better. I thought that might give you a little bit of insight to where it is that you came from. I don't know if she would have tried to tell you what's going on better than I can—she told me this while I was barely alive—but I don't know for sure that you'd even be willing to believe her. It might be worth looking into if you get a chance."

The look on Vi's face was disconcerting. She looked lost, her eyebrows coming together as if she was in deep thought. Jayce tried to think of something else to say that wouldn't sound either callous or intrusive, but he didn't think he was in the right state of mind to have that kind of social grace, anyway. He expected her to just walk off, shoulders slumped as if she had just been informed her dog had died.

Instead, she took a deep breath, shaking it off. "I… guess I'll see if I can dig something up. I've done some snooping in Caitlyn's stuff to try to figure out where I come from, but no dice so far. Maybe that'll help. Thanks for letting me know, but let's just head in for now. Before Caitlyn loses it, preferably."

Jayce swallowed hard and nodded, following her into the office. Caitlyn was seated silently at her desk while Jinx, still in the cell, was trying to do a handstand against the wall. She clattered to the floor gawkily. "Come on, Hat Lady, you're supposed to be spotting me! I'm never gonna make it to Ionia with gymnastics skills like these!"

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, sipping from the dainty little white cup on her desk as she looked up. "Welcome back, Vi." Her gaze shifted slowly over to Jayce, and he could tell right away that she had noticed how he somehow looked _rougher_ than he had looked straight out of the hospital. "Glad to see you made it in this morning, Jayce. Did you have a good night?" she asked. She _probably_ already knew the answer.

"I've had better. I didn't think I would ever have to consider seeing a chiropractor before thirty-five." He rubbed the back of his neck again, stretching out his spine.

"That's what happens when people get old. You'll start going gray like Officer Snoresville over there, but you don't get to wear a hat to cover it up!" Jinx chimed from the ground, rolling over onto her back and propping her legs up against the wall. Vi spat into the cell, precariously near one of Jinx's lengthy blue braids. Jinx shrieked girlishly and rolled in the other direction, getting up onto her knees. "Wow, I'm definitely filing a complaint with HR. This is the worst restaurant I've ever been to. You people have no idea how to run a business."

The pink-haired officer stalked up to the cell, getting a good look at Jinx. "Did you wanna fess up to him what you said to _me_ yesterday, or should I just go ahead and let him know?"

"I think he knows already. He loves it," Jinx drawled, leaning against the bars. She winked at Jayce, wriggling her arms through the bars so she could reach for him. "I'd make an honest woman out of you, pretty boy!"

It was hard to believe that she had sprung back so quickly. She had been an inconsolable mess when he had left last night. The raspy, miserable sonance of her voice had made it hard to listen to. It didn't help that it had been repeating in his head all night: _"I think I love you, I think I love you, I think I love you."_ Her apology hadn't helped soften that blow at all. If nothing else, it made him feel even worse for forcing it out of her. He just wished he had been able to believe her petty lie and go on with his life.

Jinx was acting so very _okay_ with everything now that Jayce had to wonder if he had imagined everything, or if she had been making it all up. He was trying to avoid making eye contact with her, not wanting to get too close. It was difficult for him to be so very aware of every move he made, everything he said. He didn't want Vi and Caitlyn to get suspicious of anything going on beyond what was expected of him. Any strange behaviors, he knew, he could dismiss as results of exhaustion. Still, he had promised Jinx he would help her as much as he could. He hoped that his petty attempts at avoiding her didn't make her think he was going back on his word.

"She was _watching_ you, like the creepy little voyeur she is, for a long time. That's probably how she knew your schedule and how to get in."

"Well, to be fair, 'through the roof' is pretty effective regardless of where you're going," Jayce added, watching Jinx start to spin around in the cell, unbothered by what was going on. "How long was she watching me?"

Vi shrugged impassively. "I dunno. Long enough that she could still tell _me_ your schedule… Thursday nights are pretty big for you, huh, Jayce?"

He mouthed a "wow" and turned away but didn't say anything else. So _that_ was what Vi had learned. Of all the things for Jinx to tell her about his private life, that was what she chose.

"Jayce," stated Caitlyn from her desk, pushing herself up to a stand, collecting a few sheets from around her desk and placing them gingerly in a manila folder, "if you're all set, could you come to the back with me? We've got lots of paperwork, statements, paperwork, photographs for evidence, and more paperwork to get through."

"Fun. Do we get to do any paperwork, though?" Jayce groaned dryly. He reluctantly followed her into the back room, casting a miserable glance back at Vi, as though he was hoping she could save him from her partner somehow. Unfortunately, Vi only shrugged at him sympathetically before turning back to Jinx. She spat on the floor inside the cell again to get Jinx's attention.

"Alright, brat. It's just you and me here. Let's talk about Zaun, shall we?"

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, seriously, who assigns _that_ many papers for a summer elective? I severely overestimated my multitasking ability, but here's this! I have a paper due on Sunday I haven't even started yet and I regret nothing (but I'm sorry if this reads like a paper on the ultimate demise of Rome). I don't have a whole ton to say about this chapter, except _hooray Vi is relevant_. I've got a oneshot/twoshot/whatever still in the works (spoiler alert: Piltover is apparently the only faction I can write), blah blah, nothing matters. The next chapter will maybe be up eventually after I finish this stupid paper.

Reviews/messages/favorites/letters to my house berating me for being the worst at updating are all appreciated! See you soon, maybe!


	14. The Poster Boy and the Terrorist

"Zaun? Listen, Fat Hands, I didn't study for any pop quizzes or anything, if that's what the justice system in Piltover is like—"

Vi slammed a bare fist against the bars of the cell. "Stop. Talking. For one second of your goddamn life." Jinx crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at the Piltovian woman. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, and it's something _I_ don't know. Spill it."

Did she know? Jinx had a bad feeling that a certain _someone _had told Vi that something was up. A sense of betrayal that she couldn't really even justify crept up in her gut. She hadn't figured Jayce would hold onto a bit of information like _that_, especially since he had been barely conscious when she had mentioned it. It hadn't occurred to her that Jayce might think to tell Vi what she had said. If only she could remember in better detail exactly _what_ she had told him.

"Alright, fine. You caught me. I'm a Zaunite terrorist here to rape and eat everyone in sight," Jinx admitted, raising her hands in the air defeatedly as she walked over to her cot, sitting down on it and pulling her legs up to cross them. The chain was freezing against her skin. "If you don't mind, I will be starting with Officer Badonkadonk in the next room."

"Stop fucking around, Jinx!"

Jinx rolled her eyes and gave a dramatic sigh. "_Fine_. You caught me again. I'm not a terrorist. I _am_ with the Zaunite Fashion Police, though, if it helps. Don't you just hate cops?"

"Why won't you give me a straight answer?"

With an impassive shrug, Jinx pushed herself back so she could lean against the wall. She really regretted not taking the opportunity to get some sleep, although she knew that getting any sleep at all was an impossible goal. "I dunno. Maybe my life goal _is_ to be in the Zaunite Fashion police. 'Fake it 'til you make it,' so they say. You're doing an okay job of faking it, but I think it's starting to get old. Maybe you should try getting a real job."

Jinx was trying to provoke her shamelessly, although she knew it was a bad idea. If she got Vi to yell enough or do _something_ in that same range of volume, maybe Jayce and the Hat Lady would come out of their stupid little broom closet to save her from Vi's pointless interrogation.

Vi's temper was mounting rapidly, but Jinx didn't let just how much that bothered her show on her face. She was rather fond of the current unbroken state of her face, but anything she got she supposed she probably deserved. Still, it was worth a shot to see if Jayce and the Sheriff would come out to stop Vi from bringing the place down around her. If she put those gauntlets on, she'd snap Jinx like a twig. _Ugh, fuck this city so much._

With a quiet snarl, Vi turned around and plucked a key off the Sheriff's desk. Although Jinx was praying to whoever would listen that Vi would walk out of the building, she walked up to the cell and unlocked it, sliding the door open. She left the door open and the key inside the keyhole as she took a few steps forward to stand in front of Jinx, the look on her face positively _homicidal_.

"Do you know anything about me or not?" Her voice was quieter now, as if that was the only alternative to absolutely screaming. Jinx really wished she had gone with the latter instead.

A rather unfeminine snort erupted from Jinx as she burst into laughter, even though Vi was standing right there in front of her, ready to flay her alive. "Oh, I know lots about you, Vi! Most of it's bad, though, and I'd rather not hurt your feelings. I know you're kinda sensitive to criticism like that."

"Then tell me what you fucking know about me!" Vi snapped, barely holding onto the last shred of patience she had. Jinx hadn't felt very safe with only some metal bars separating her from the pink-haired monster, let alone with _nothing_ to hold her back, especially when Fishbones and Pow-Pow were missing in action. Jayce and the stupid Hat Lady were still missing. Jinx didn't know how far away they were. "Tell me or I'll snap you like a twig."

There was a certain growl to Vi's breathing as she stared the tattooed criminal down, the aggressive look in her eyes a clear warning that she was not going to be fucked with. Jinx narrowed her eyes, clearly challenging that sentiment. "No."

The monosyllabic reply was what finally sent Vi over the edge. "I'll fucking _end_ you!" she screeched in a tone that Jinx was _sure_ she had never heard come out of her before.

She dove at the waifish girl in front of her, catching her around the throat before she could even consider getting out of the way. In a single fluid movement, she took the criminal off the cot and onto the floor, pinning her and digging her fingers into the muscle on either side of her neck so the arch between her index finger and thumb would crush up against her windpipe. Enough room was given so that Jinx could gasp for breaths.

Jinx's hands shot up to claw hopelessly at Vi's iron grip. She knew she didn't stand a chance—Vi was all muscle, ridiculously strong even without those stupid gauntlets she wore. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she gasped desperately for breath, hoping forlornly that Vi wouldn't shift her hand downward just so and close off her airway completely. The previous little glimmer of hope that Jayce and the Sheriff would come sauntering out of their stupid little backroom had fluttered away.

"I will see to it that you choke to death right here on your own spit, like you _deserve_," Vi hissed, every word acidic. She spat, and Jinx had to shut her eyes as she reached up to wipe the saliva away, tamping down the disgust rising in her throat. "Are you gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?"

The thought of being strangled to death in the second degree in a Piltovian holding cell seemed… _fitting_, at least, but Jinx didn't want to die. She didn't have the patience to wait around for Jayce in Hell, especially if he was only going to tell her that he didn't care about her at all.

"Ye… es…" she choked out after far too long, raising an arm to block her eyes in case Vi spat on her again. Fortunately, Vi seemed to take her pathetic excuse for an affirmative truthfully and eased up her grip on Jinx's throat. The second Vi's weight was no longer bearing down on her, Jinx shot up into a sitting position, coughing and sputtering, wiping the spit and tears from her face. Vi had already gotten to her feet, standing over her imposingly.

"Start talking. Now."

Jinx nodded. How long had she been guarding _this_ secret? She didn't look at Vi as she spoke, keeping her eyes averted. "You were born—" she took a second to cough again, her throat throbbing with pain still. "You were born here." Vi inhaled angrily, pulling her fist back. Jinx reached up, using her arms to cover her face. "I mean it! I'm not screwing around. I mean it. Really."

Slowly Vi lowered her arm, but her fist stayed tightly clenched.

"You came from Piltover. Both of us did." Vi narrowed her eyes, but Jinx kept hers on the ground she was sitting on. "I was probably eight and you were maybe, like, twelve when we left. There was no one left to take care of us and we didn't wanna have to keep going to school and we already had a bad reputation with the people here. So we went to Zaun and a gang of kids there let us in because we both knew how to work with hextech. It was probably… six or maybe seven years that we stayed with them.

"Then we both got hurt real bad when I went to test out some of my weapons south of there, and no one could find you. Not for a long time. And then a long time later Nix, this guy who used to really like you a long time ago for some reason, was in Piltover and he saw you and he said you were a cop here now. It's just so _unbelievably_ fucked up that you would just… leave all of us, leave _me_, for this stupid place. I hate it here, and I hate you so much for liking it. We had so much."

"_Why_ do you keep saying 'we', like you and me are friends?!"

Jinx reached up to wipe at her face, pushing herself to her feet and crossing her arms sullenly. She kept her back to Vi stubbornly. "Because sisters are supposed to look out for each other!" she snapped. "You told me that, but you don't believe it at all."

The back of Vi's hand caught her across the face, the nail of her middle finger tearing her skin from her left cheekbone to the corner of her mouth. The impact and surprise knocked her right back to the ground again. Vi's foot caught her in the ribcage and she crumpled up, hissing with pain as she felt her bones crack under the force.

There was a long, long silence as Jinx lie there on the cold concrete of the floor, shivering like a small animal that had taken just a little too much abuse. There were footsteps, followed by the sound of the cell door sliding open. "You've lost your mind," Vi muttered as she yanked the door of the sheriff's office open and let it slam behind her.

* * *

"I don't know. It… could have been a lot worse," Jayce admitted honestly, rubbing the back of his neck and stifling another yawn. "Like I said, the whole time I was there, not a lot happened. She didn't use me for target practice or anything."

Caitlyn sighed. She had been acting irritated, as if Jayce was actively trying to piss her off, ever since they had sat down. "What did you _do_ the whole time, though?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. I slept sometimes. I was chained by the ankle, so it's not like I could wander around the entire place, but I could go between a few rooms freely. Sometimes we talked."

She was writing something down. "Talked about what?"

"Nothing," Jayce answered noncommittally, resting his head on his hand. He was absently scribbling equations on the table with a capped pen. Caitlyn was watching him, one eyebrow cocked, prodding him silently for more information. He stood by his answer staunchly, meeting her pressing gaze for a second before looking back down at the table where he was scrawling numbers only visible to him. "Nothing important, anyway."

In retrospect, everything seemed to have _some_ importance at least. He didn't want to think about the meaner things he had said to her, especially leading up to him sleeping with her. Jinx had just seemed so fragile, and he felt like he had taken advantage of her.

It made him feel even worse that he had goaded her into saying she loved him. And then she had _apologized_ for it, as if she had just come right out with it and had forced it on him. He hadn't even been able to say anything truly substantial back to her. _That_ had kept him up for a few hours even after he had gotten back home.

The Sheriff eyed him, but didn't push him further on it. She had asked him about everything she could, but he hadn't been extremely helpful or responsive. He had told her honestly about the young teenager that had given him a ride past Zaun before threatening to say that he had raped her, but that was the last explicit detail he had given her before he had mentioned waking up in an underground tunnel owned and operated by slavers. Caitlyn had already tried asking Jinx about what had happened, but she didn't give a serious answer for a single thing. "You never got your things back, either, did you?"

"No." He didn't really even care about his things anymore, either. He could see now that they were _just_ things, so much more expendable than he had been willing to believe when he had first set out, taking Jinx's bait so foolishly. Besides, his designs, for the most part, were still safe in his lab. "It's not a big deal. I know they're at least safe. I'm… not all that worried."

Caitlyn didn't say anything then, resting her chin on the palm of her hand so she could tap her lips pensively. She was paging through the files, scanning every single one, trying to find anything she could use to make him talk more. Jayce had expected to have more to say, but now everything sounded damning when he said it in his head. "You're being especially unhelpful, Jayce," she muttered, glancing up at him only momentarily when he shrugged. "I hope you know that."

"I know. I'm sorry, Caitlyn; I wish I could tell you more." That was definitely true—he wished he still loathed Jinx the way he had when he had woken up in her home with her perched on his chest. That way he could inform Caitlyn in great detail of all the creepy, horrible things she had done. But that wasn't the case, and he knew that everything Jinx had done had warranted an equally pretty terrible reaction from him, and it wasn't fair to her for him to disregard those all the same.

The look on Caitlyn's face made it pretty clear that she didn't believe him. She had no reason to; if Ezreal's quick analysis of just how _off_ Jayce seemed was anything to go by, Caitlyn probably had sirens going off in her head already. He had never been much of a liar anyway, but he was trying to tell the truth where he could. Unfortunately, when Caitlyn was studying him while he spoke, everything he said sounded like a lie.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Alright. Let's talk about what's going to happen to her, shall we?"

"If you want."

"Tell me again what you think we should do with her." Caitlyn was definitely up to something, but Jayce didn't think he would be able to change his answer without hurting either himself or Jinx.

"I already told you. She doesn't seem _that_ unhinged up close," he answered, not sure if he was telling the truth or not. Maybe it was getting harder to see how crazy she was with the way his sanity was slowly draining away the longer he spent around her.

Either way, he had told Jinx he would do everything he could to make sure things worked out for her. Just _how_ he planned on doing that remained an issue. While Caitlyn might be more sympathetic to the idea of rehabilitation, Jayce doubted Vi would have even a sliver of mercy for her. And that was fair enough: he knew just as well as anyone else that Jinx had wrought destruction and chaos on Piltover that was just as extensive as it was pricey.

Still, the thought of Jinx rotting in a tiny cell the rest of her life or waiting her turn on death row made him feel sick.

"She's obviously crazy, but I think we can help her. It's a good opportunity for Piltover. I've seen what the people at the academy can do. They can figure out how to reattach all the loose wires if we let them," he urged, before backing off, realizing he was speaking maybe a little too insistently. "It's the right thing to do."

"I'm just as opposed to killing our captives as anyone," Caitlyn stated, keeping her eyes level with him. He felt like he was a teenager at a conference with one of his professors, begging for support and funding for some unattainable project. "…but you've seen what she's done to the city. What she _loves_ doing to the city. Is that really something you can just… pass off and try to fix? Does she really strike you as someone that can assimilate?"

"Yes! What really gets resolved if we just… lock her up, or kill her? She's insane; I'm not denying that. But if we just kill her, what's going to set us apart from Noxus and Zaun? If we can try to rehabilitate her, we can keep her here with us."

Caitlyn sighed, pursing her lips and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Jayce… I'm not Vi. I can be reasonable."

What little confidence he had left sunk like a stone in his chest. He felt like he was digging a hole beneath himself, and he was getting to a point where he wouldn't be able to climb out. He knew better than to string Caitlyn along with vague answers, but he couldn't be as honest as he desperately wanted to. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Caitlyn's tolerance of him had sunk too far down. He didn't know what she thought or how much she knew, but any amount at all was entirely too much. "What are you talking about?"

"Why were you here last night? The door was unlocked when I got here, and there are only _three_ people with keys to my office," she told him frankly, the corners of her lips turning into a disapproving frown. Jayce could have sworn, reprimanding himself for being so thoughtless. "Something is very off, Jayce. You know I'm not stupid, and I know _you're_ not stupid. Why are you acting like this?"

"I wasn't…" Caitlyn huffed at him, a wordless indication that she didn't believe whatever stupid thing was going to come out of his mouth. He swallowed hard, rubbing a hand over his face exasperatedly. He hadn't considered being caught. "I had to talk to her alone, and I knew I wasn't going to have another chance to talk with her when you and Vi weren't here. That's all."

Caitlyn neatly tucked the papers into the file and closed it, pushing it off to the side. Her mouth was still tightened seriously, but her eyes showed concern more than anger. "Why won't you tell me what's going on?" Jayce had a lot of wrong answers to that question, and he focused on the table in front of her, trying to decide what the right answer was. "Is it because of Vi?"

"It's… I don't know, Cait; it's because of a lot of things."

"You can trust me. If you don't want me to tell Vi, I won't. Just tell me what the issue is."

The _issue_ was that there were a lot of issues, as it happened, and the ones that were bothering him the most were the ones he wanted to tell Caitlyn the least. Those were the same that were probably the most important to tell her about. Caitlyn could be extremely empathetic—she was a good friend, and she always had been, but he just… didn't _know_ for sure. "I feel so bad right now," he mumbled from behind his hand.

"Sorry?"

"Just hear me out for a minute," he said, not all too keen on the idea of looking at her now. "The only reason I'm not rotting away in some Zaunite scientist's basement right now is because she traded her freedom for mine. You only caught her because she _let_ you catch her." That seemed like a pretty good starting point. Maybe it would be easier to work her way back.

Caitlyn's eyebrows came together with confusion for a moment, and she seemed to tense up. Then she relaxed, her tight expression softening. "I know it's hard to stop being empathetic when someone saves your life. But think of what she's done to _Piltover_, Jayce. You know it's your duty to—"

"I know. And knowing that I have a sworn duty to Piltover is the only reason I think we should try harder with her. When I stepped out of Piltover looking for her, I thought I was going to kill her, Cait."

"When did that change?"

He sighed. When _had_ he gone from detesting her very presence on Runeterra to being willing to defy Piltovian values in order to defend her?

Swallowing hard, he shook his head. His hand came up to cover his mouth, as if to prevent himself from saying anything stupid. As if his own hand could stop _that_. "I don't know. I… The night before the crazies captured me, I had sex with her."

"Jayce!" Caitlyn snapped reproachfully. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"She's not the way you think she is," he answered loudly, his hand coming down hard on the table. There was a look on the sheriff's face, like she was disgusted by the idea of him with the psychopath that had been terrorizing her beloved city. _Their_ beloved city.

"Didn't it occur to you that _that_ might have been the only reason she thought to save you?" As if Jayce was gearing up to be some kind of courtesan to Jinx. What a creepy thing to think.

He shook his head again. "_No_. I… I was really awful to her before that happened. She was trying to be nice and I made her cry. You've seen the kind of person she is; I don't think breaking down in tears is her first reaction to anything. I thought she was using sex to manipulate me, but… I think I manipulated her. What a crazy way for a hostage to act."

Jayce covered his mouth again, looking away at the door. How expensive would it be to run away from his problems to Demacia for a few months while Caitlyn milled over the fact that he had slept with Piltover's number one enemy. She wasn't talking, just scowling with her arms crossed.

When she did speak, it didn't do much for Jayce's bruised opinion of himself: "Is that why you came here last night, too? To see if you could still get away with that?"

"No. I made her cry again last night."

Caitlyn wasn't thrilled. "How did you do that?"

"I can't stop… _manipulating_ her. I feel like I'm using her. It feels so bad, Caitlyn." Jayce breathed a heavy sigh, trying to not think of how pathetic she sounded when he had left her last night, her voice coming out broken through the tears. "She told me she loved me."

"You've got to be—"

"And then she _apologized_ for it. Do you know what that feels like? It feels pretty goddamn bad. I feel like I've been using her, and I don't even know how."

There was a weird look on Caitlyn's face, an uneven mixture of vitriol and sympathy that didn't make Jayce eager to hear what she had to say. "Do you think that's why she was watching you...? Why she tried to get you to come to her? So you would fall in love with her, too?"

Feeling guilty for not having all the answers, Jayce shrugged again. He hadn't considered that, but it didn't make him feel less like the world's most heartless man for treating Jinx the way he had. If Jinx had put in all that work just for him to fall in love with her, she really deserved it at the end of the day. She had already sacrificed more than he had. He had given up a little bit of comfort and a few days of his life. She had given up her entire livelihood, just for that.

When he didn't answer, Caitlyn spoke again.

"_Did_ you fall in love with her?"

"I can't let her die here because of me," Jayce urged, but Caitlyn only barely let him finish talking before she spoke again.

"That's not what I asked."

Jayce didn't answer for a long time, not even necessarily milling over the answer in his head. He knew he didn't have it. "I… I don't know, Caitlyn." The disappointed look on her face said that was not the answer she wanted. "For my sake and for hers, I wish I could answer you."

* * *

Jinx didn't really see the point in getting up from the floor. Her ribs thrummed with a pain that she didn't really want to get used to, and her head ached after making contact with the floor.

She could hear the door on the other end of the office opening faintly through the pounding in her head, but she didn't bother looking up. There was a strange, indistinct mixture of "are you okay" and "what did Vi do" that tried to break through the fog.

There was a gloved hand on her lower back—probably Jayce's, given that it was big and not actively trying to rip her spine out. Still, she curled up a little more in a vain attempt to get away from the hand. She could hear him saying her name, and she groaned a response that really hadn't been words to begin with.

After a few moments too many feeling sorry for herself, she raised her head, rolling over onto her side so she could stop trying to place all her weight on her face. The shapes and colors that made up a vaguely Jayce-like form came into focus after a second. The cell door behind him was still open.

Well, she'd had a chance to make a break for it and she had instead spent it on the floor. Jinx didn't even know how long she had been alone.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Jinx could see the Hat Lady standing nervously in the entrance of the cell, a perturbed look twisting up her expression in an unattractive sort of way.

"My ribs are considering a lawsuit, but I'm okay." The hilarity of the assessment was lessened significantly by the fact that her voice was cracking like a boy in puberty. Cool.

Jayce wasn't smiling. He didn't look as perturbed as Caitlyn did, but he frowned down at Jinx. "Where did Vi go?" Caitlyn asked, her voice a few shades darker than normal.

Jinx shook her head. "I don't know; maybe death row to free up some space in line for me."

Her humor was lost on both of them. Caitlyn raised her chin, her mouth tightening further into a scowl. Jayce glanced back at her, and Jinx felt like there was something they weren't telling her. It probably wasn't productive to ask, especially not now.

"I should go find her," Caitlyn stated, sounding defeated. "I'll go look for fifteen minutes or so and see what's going on. Don't do anything… stupid while I'm gone." The hard look she was giving Jayce was a pretty clear sign that was a warning more for him than for her. For once.

She turned to leave, locking the cell up behind her as an afterthought.

"She's caging you up with me? Did you finally admit how stupid you think her hat is or does she trust me not enough to _seduce_ you while she's gone?" Jayce didn't smile as he helped her up. He hadn't smiled in a while. Probably her fault, she recognized. It was a bad joke, anyway. "What happened when you were in there?"

"I'm an idiot," he answered lowly as he put her in a sitting position on the uncomfortable cot. He sat next to her, looking utterly defeated.

"I asked what happened, not what's been true."

He looked like he almost smiled at that, but his mouth tightened up again. He grabbed her chin with one hand so he could look at the scratch across her face. "I might have told her about some of the stupider things I've done to you." There was guilt in his voice as he released her. Jinx sighed, looking down at her knees.

"Like?"

She heard him sigh just as she had. "I told her I slept with you."

"Can't blame her for being jealous. People are lining up in the streets to sleep with me."

Jayce was quiet for a long time. When Jinx looked up at him, he looked almost like he had just seen someone get killed by thugs in an alleyway. If she hadn't known better, she might have said it looked like he was getting ready to cry.

Gingerly, she leaned her head down to rest on his shoulder. She was exhausted, had been for days, but she would have stayed up for weeks if it meant that he would stop making that face.

"I told her what you said to me last night."

Jinx tried not to tense up like that bothered her, but she couldn't help it all that much. It bothered her a lot that she had even verbalized those stupid thoughts for Jayce, but the thought of Caitlyn knowing that she could feel so weak and human made her nervous.

"What if Vi finds out?" she asked quietly, almost feeling angry at Jayce for telling Caitlyn at all. But she could at least picture one or two scenarios where it wasn't totally stupid to tell her. She didn't ask what lead to him telling her this.

"What did Vi do to you?" he responded fluidly, as if that was a natural answer to her question. Jinx didn't press him any further for answers. As full of bad ideas she was, she tried to be careful with Jayce, at least. He didn't deserve her stupidity the way Vi did.

Jinx snorted irreverently. "I tried to get away with not telling her how much I know about who she is. I told her after she nearly tore my throat out with her hand. After I told her that we emerged from the same stupid, cursed woman, she backhanded me like an unruly prostitute and kicked me in the tattoos before leaving like I offended her foot. My ribs hurt like a bitch."

He reached up to undo his shirt so he could open it up from the front, showing the big "X" barred at the bottom—Jinx's mark—that was lined with stitches. It still hurt, but the ache had dulled to where he didn't notice it until he concentrated on it. "If it makes you feel better, I got branded. I didn't show Vi or Caitlyn because they would think in a heartbeat that you did it. If they don't already know about it."

"I could let you sign my back with a blowtorch, if it makes us even. I don't know why people don't do this instead of getting engagement rings."

Jayce laughed then, closing up his shirt again. Jinx didn't wear enough to take anything off without compromising her modesty. As if she hadn't compromised enough with him. "You think that'd be a good idea? I'm sure Caitlyn would be thrilled."

"Chicks dig scars, don't they? Or was it villains? I don't keep track of my own opinions anymore. I think I count enough as a chick villain that I can dig both."

The reminder that she certainly qualified as a _villain_ was enough to wipe the smile off of Jayce's face right away, and Jinx kicked herself for saying it. Again he was quiet for a while, retreating back into his own thoughts.

"Did you…" he started, but his voice tapered off. She nudged him to get him to just spit it out. It was a near-certainty that she didn't want to hear what he was going to ask her, but it would only wear her down if she just let him get away with leaving something unasked. "Did you lure me to your house to get me to… uh, fall in love with you?"

The way he said "fall in love" sounded so nervous and fearful, like even the thought of it made him coil away in fear. Jinx broke out into laughter before the last sound had even gotten out of his mouth.

"What makes you think _that_? I lured you to my house because I had been watching you and I wanted to see what you were like. I'm not charming enough to trick anyone into the big L. You would know." The sad look that showed up on Jayce's face was an immediate red flag that she had fucked up.

He snatched her around the back of his neck with his arm so he could pin her to him, burying his mouth in her hair. She breathed in again, still able to smell aftershave and oil on him. "Don't _say _shit like that. It's a problem with me, and not with you, believe it or not."

"Did you just 'it's not you, it's me' me?"

Jayce sighed against her, going quiet again for a few moments before saying, "You just have to trust me. It's not that I don't—"

The door opened noisily, and Jayce couldn't readjust himself fast enough.

Fortunately, it wasn't Vi.

The blond that had just strolled in raised his hands defensively and Jayce got up, moving as far away from Jinx as possible.

"I can wait outside if you need a minute or something—"

Jayce shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck like he usually did when he was tired or irritated. "No, it's fine. Caitlyn put me in time-out with her. Maybe on purpose."

The blond smirked perversely, glancing at Jinx for only a second. He looked a lot younger than Jayce, but she couldn't tell by how much.

"Where did she go?"

"Looking for Vi. Apparently Vi bailed out a little bit ago after taking out a few of Jinx's ribs while me and Caitlyn were doing legal stuff in the back. Cait when to look for her."

Jinx didn't expect Jayce to introduce them, so she backed up further onto her cot, pressing her back against the cold wall. She was briefly resentful toward this blond guy for making Jayce get up, but she stopped herself before she could realize that she was getting legitimately possessive over Jayce. What kind of a huge creep was she becoming?

"I miss all the cool stuff. Do you know when they'll be back? I wanted to look around and see if I could do a dig in that tunnel with some of my guys, but I need sheriff's clearance." He held up a rolled-up paper, shaking it a little.

"Fifteen minutes, she said. Probably longer, if I know her."

Jinx felt so out of place, watching Piltovians go about their daily lives even while one was locked in a jail cell with a psycho. The blond swallowed hard, looking at her again. She responded with a grin, waving her fingers at him like she was planning on filleting and eating him. He looked away. Piltovians were strange, strange people.

Jayce beckoned his friend to come closer, and Jinx narrowed her eyes at the blond as he approached, probably curious as to how Jayce was able to stand being so close to her without fear of being nuked. Which was a fair thing to wonder.

"Listen, Ezreal. When Cait and Vi come back, don't tell them anything." Jinx kept herself from snorting. What a pretentious, purely Piltovian name. _Ezreal._ She didn't like him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. The whole thing from the hospital is still… on the table. Right?"

Jayce nodded. Jinx was pretty sure Jayce had already filled Caitlyn in on what had happened, so it was especially strange that he would bother telling this guy not to tell her. Maybe he seemed to think Vi and Caitlyn shared a brain. It wouldn't surprise Jinx one bit. Cops were weird like that.

How many people was Jayce going to open his big mouth to? Jinx supposed she didn't care; he was only digging around his own feet. But she didn't want him to get exiled or anything because of her (unless he got exiled to her bedroom or something, which would be okay for a while).

"I'll come back later. You… could probably use some time. Right? If I see Caitlyn and Vi anywhere, I'll try and hold them up for a few. If it helps. Don't get weird or anything; there's not that kind of time."

"It helps a lot. Thanks." Ezreal left, shouldering the door open as Jayce turned back to face Jinx. She crossed her arms, frowning at him.

"Well, good thing you told your _wingman_. Does he get you laid often? And do you really think he's not gonna tell, if that stupid Hat Lady hasn't already?"

Jayce rolled his eyes, planting himself next to her again. "He doesn't know much more than what he caught us doing. And we're lucky it wasn't Vi. We had a talk in the hospital before I got out; he told me to come see you last night."

"Because that went so well."

"Why are you acting like that toward me? I'm doing my best to help you here," he said defensively, shooting her a dirty look.

Jinx groaned, flopping over so she could rest the back of her head on his lap. She would get up before Vi and Caitlyn came in, but there was only so much time to be close to him. "Because I'm in pain and your mouth is bigger than mine. Just let me be a dick to you while I can get away with it."

"Listen. I don't know if I can get them to let you skip off scot-free, as fun as that would be, but I'm trying _damn_ hard to get Caitlyn to just… try to rehabilitate you. Or something. Just try not to be an explosive psychopath."

"You're misinterpreting my personality."

"I know that. But you're going to have to let me help you, okay? I'm so close to convincing Cait, even if she doesn't look like it. And even though Vi will probably bicker and fight that something else needs to happen to you, Cait has the final say. I think telling her… I think telling her about 'us' might have been a good thing for you."

The way he said "us" was awfully strange. Since when had there been an "us"? There was a hero of Piltover, and there was a terrorist from Zaun. Despite all the questions she had about his word choice, Jinx nodded. "Whatever you say, poster boy."

* * *

**A/N:** I had a long author's note written about how sorry I was and how my computer deleted this chapter twice, but my shitty campus internet ate it. So here's a chapter after five billion years. Thanks so much for being patient, guys!


	15. Capture Bonding

It was nearly an hour before Caitlyn stomped back into her office, mouth pinched into a scowl. When she slammed the door behind her, Jinx was lying on her back on the cot in her cell, loudly counting the bricks on the ceiling. Jayce was pacing back and forth in the tiny space, bouncing nervously between the ends of the cell.

Upon seeing that Caitlyn had returned, he stopped abruptly. "Did you find Vi? She okay?"

"She is... so pigheaded," Caitlyn snapped, sitting down at her desk. She didn't bother letting Jayce out of the cage she had wrongfully imprisoned him in. As if he was going to drag a lawyer in for a lawsuit against Piltover's mightiest. Who also happened to be one of his closest friends that probably didn't mean _too_ much harm. To be fair, he probably deserved much worse than a little time in a jail cell.

"What's the matter, Hat Lady? Fat Hands still hates me?"

Caitlyn huffed. "She wouldn't tell me, but I'd assume that's the case."

"Bummerrrr..." Jinx sighed.

Jayce leaned against the bars, trying to get a look at what she was working on. "Did you see Ezreal? He's looking for you," he chatted, as if he wasn't currently in a cell. "He stopped by for a minute looking for you."

"I saw him, but I scared him off before Vi caught him committing the heinous crime of being in a good mood right now." She looked up and realized that she had left Jayce trapped in a cage with Jinx before sighing and grabbing the keys from a hook on the wall.

As Caitlyn set Jayce free, Jinx piped up, "He's cute, I like him. You should bring him back. I bet being romanced by him is like the experience of being a lesbian without your parents kicking you out of the house and having to cut your hair and start wearing huge gauntlets. Plus he looks really afraid of me, which is really appealing to me in a guy."

Caitlyn's dirty look didn't do much to perturb Jinx as she rolled over onto her stomach.

"Jayce," Caitlyn stated firmly as he slunk out of the jail cell. The "yeah?" he answered with came out sounding much more like a teenager's "what now?". Pinching the bridge of her nose with irritation, she said, "You should leave. I need to talk to Jinx."

"Oh my god, are we gonna do it? And you're not gonna let him watch? Or let him _pay_ to watch? People make big bucks doing-"

"Stop talking," Caitlyn snapped as she pointed to the door. "Go find somewhere else to be while I talk to your girlfriend."

Bringing himself back from the cusp of a complaint, Jayce nodded like the mature adult he had forgotten he was and left, leaving Jinx with a warning glance that pretty clearly reiterated his warning not to be an explosive psychopath.

As if.

Caitlyn didn't talk for way too long after Jayce left, crossing her arms and pacing with a scowl tightening her expression. Jinx had-give or take-seven million different things to say, but she didn't really want to fuck this up all that bad. She didn't want to be put into Piltover's rehabilitation program, but if she could get out of the cell... Well, that would be a good start.

"Do you think you're a lost cause?" Caitlyn asked finally, coming to a stop in the middle of the room. She was facing away.

"Well, gee," she answered, "don't let me toot my own horn or anything."

Caitlyn whirled around, making firmer eye contact than Jinx could maintain. "Listen. I don't like you, I don't like what you've done to my city, and if I had my way you'd be behind bars for the rest of your life. I'm giving you a hundred times the leniency you deserve right now only because this seems to matter a lot-for heaven knows why-to Jayce."

"Listen, Hat Lady, I'm gonna be honest with you. I don't have a plan here because you dicks took my guns. I was sitting here kind of hoping some hunk would swing in on a vine to save me but I frankly don't think that the ceiling in here is high enough for that."

"And what? You were going to let me put you in jail for the rest of your life?"

Jinx shrugged. "I dunno. Stuff usually just kind of works out for me, I've noticed."

"Would you even let us try to fix you?"

"_Fix_ me? Dream on, Hat Lady. I'm the most perfect person in the world! I mean, don't get me wrong, but it's awful hard to stage a violent revolt in a shrink's office. So I'm told."

Caitlyn walked toward the bars, crossing her arms defensively. "You don't even appreciate how hard Jayce was pushing to get you pardoned, and that's the only reason I'm going to make sure you're not put to death! I shouldn't be surprised that someone like you would be using someone with a heart as good as his, but I am."

For a second, Jinx looked as if Caitlyn had just reached out and smacked her. Then her carefully nonchalant expression fouled into an angry frown. "Using him?! You think that... Are you for real right now? Don't get me wrong here; I _did_ try pretty freaking hard to use him when he first showed up at _my_ house, but I couldn't come up with anything."

"Then why in the world would you bother luring him to you by stealing all of his belongings?" Caitlyn sounded exasperated, as if she had been working her way through these questions herself.

"You people already know that I was kind of stalking him. That's the kind of thing stalkers do, lady. Newsflash."

Glaring, Caitlyn pressed, "But why him, of all people? You know that he's never going to live the kind of life you live."

Jinx snorted. "No kidding. He'd die."

"Answer me."

Rolling her eyes, Jinx attempted to roll over on the cot but only succeeded in rolling off of it, landing on the floor with a thud. She swore but didn't get up right away. "I don't know. He's got good... bone structure? Is that something girls can be into?"

"Things can't really get much worse for you if you would just answer me," the Sheriff remarked pointedly, and Jinx was rather inclined to disagree. She could think of a lot of things she could say that would make things much worse for her.

"I dunno. Is it possible to capture-bond with someone that you captured or is that not a thing? Not asking for you. Asking for me. But I guess you might want to put some consideration into whether or not you're feeling the big L for old Jinx, too. Wouldn't blame you."

Closing her eyes, Caitlyn pulled her hat off to run her fingers through her hair and sigh. "I'm not going to fight you anymore. You're in captivity and that's the most I can ask of you. I'm just trying to make sense of all this. I could try asking you why you want to destroy my town, but I doubt that'll get us anywhere. Right?"

"Now you're getting it! Good on you, Big-Rack-Little-Gun!"

She shook her head but didn't otherwise argue the new epithet. Caitlyn didn't say anything for a long time, so Jinx clambered back up onto the cot and began counting ceiling tiles aloud again.

After hitting four hundred ninety-nine (admittedly she lost count a few times and was just making up numbers), she stopped and got to her feet, walking up to the bars. Caitlyn was quietly doing paperwork, signing and stamping things before stuffing them into an outbox.

"Hey," she snipped to get the Sheriff's attention. Caitlyn glanced up from her paperwork, looking almost irritable. "You know I was kind of watching him for a while, right? Like, sitting there with my guns watching him live his life, right?"

"Unfortunately."

Jinx let her arms dangle outside the bars. She had already checked about a billion times; her arms were just too short to reach anything. Although, to be fair, anyone with arms that many feet long didn't deserve to be in a holding cell in Piltover; they deserved to be in the circus tickling the back row of audience members. She had already pointed this out to Caitlyn six or seven times.

"Don't make it weird or anything," Jinx continued, "but I like the way he builds things. It's awesome. It's like... I dunno, have you ever seen someone make a painting or sculpture or something? Where for a long time it doesn't look like it's going to become anything, and then all of a sudden, _wham_, there's art right there and then you steal it and keep it in your house so the artist will come and keep you company?"

Caitlyn stared.

"It's a lot like that. He gets this... this _look_ on his face after he finishes building something, and it's the kind of look you'd see on a magazine you would take to bed with you, probably. It's like a weird mix between '_I am literally perfect_' and '_I would like to fuck this machine_' and it's nice. Everything he does is kinda nice in a very boring, cub scout sort of way. You get me?"

"Not at all."

"Except sometimes he's really _not_ nice, and that's pretty damn good, too." She slid down onto the floor, leaning her face against one of the bars. "Sometimes... you know, a lot of the time actually he's kind of a dick, or sometimes he looks like he's gonna cry, and it just makes me feel bad, even when it's not directly my fault. Is that weird?"

After a lengthy, awkward moment, Caitlyn burst into laughter, slouching over and covering her face. Jinx frowned, wondering if maybe someone had accidentally flipped the sanity switch in the room. Certainly that wasn't the funniest thing she had said recently. She knew because she was almost always hilarious.

With a gasp for air, Caitlyn giggled, "I can't believe you."

"What?! I'm over here exposing my gross, visceral, beating heart to you and you laugh?!"

"All that. _All that_ and Jayce feels like he's using you. You two are a circus."

"Using me?" Jinx echoed with disgust. "He couldn't use me if he tried. I'm a monument to sturdy willpower! Man, I'm gonna kick his ass." ...Okay, maybe she felt a little bit used. She had already been the clingy one to drop the L-word on his head like a hilarious cartoon anvil, and he hadn't exactly reciprocated in kind.

Even if he didn't, that was probably pretty much alright with her. Reasonably, it would be the best for both of them if Jayce decided that he had been using her by mistake and that he hated her the way she thought and sent her on her merry way to prison. She personally preferred a lifetime in prison to years of gross rehabilitation programs to make her ready for society until she factored in what _he_ thought.

"I don't want to be fixed," Jinx announced from the cell. "I like myself, and I like blowing things up here in Snoresville to piss off you and Fat Hands. But if that's what he wants and if it's a possibility... _maybe_ I'll think about it. Maybe." Thinking about it made her feel like she wanted to vomit, but she wasn't going to tell Hat Lady that. Getting rid of the nausea that passed over her at the thought of ultimately taking Fishbones' advice and settling the hell down was step one of about a bajillion.

"Ultimately it's not up to me," Caitlyn reminded her, "but that's a nice thought. I'm sure Jayce will appreciate your cutesy sentiment."

"It is not cutesy; it is noble and heroic as balls!" Jinx was too busy pouting to notice that Caitlyn was packing up her things and heading for the door. "Where are you going? Don't leave me here alone! What if I get bored?!"

"I've got some errands to run. Keep an eye on the place for me, won't you?"

* * *

"Jayce? Are you home?" Caitlyn called, rapping on the door to his laboratory with the back of her knuckle a few times. She was tired, having done rounds through the city all day, dodging her office like it was an infectious disease.

It had been a few long hours since she had left Jinx alone in the cell, figuring that some time alone might do her good. If she decompressed a little, maybe she would consider her options a little more carefully. That was a stretch for Jinx, but it was all Caitlyn had as a plan. The sky had darkened to a reddish-orange as the sun made its way beneath the skyline.

"I'm here, it's open," he answered from inside, sounding suspiciously normal.

When Caitlyn opened the door, Jayce looked almost as if nothing was wrong, as if he didn't notice his laboratory was devoid of most things and he was still recovering from a long stay with a series of morally reprehensible people. If it wasn't for the black eye or the bags under his eyes, he might have looked normal with the blueprints scattered all about his desk and a pencil in hand.

"Back to work already?"

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Whenever I get all of my stuff back-hopefully soon-I'll be able to get back to work on all this. Might as well start while I have free time."

Caitlyn eyed him, waiting for him to ask about her chat with Jinx. Impressively, he instead got back to work. "Jinx sure is a piece of work," she mentioned nonchalantly, taking a seat on the other side of Jayce's desk, watching him scribble and sketch things she didn't want to understand onto the thin slices of paper.

"You're telling me," he muttered. "What did you two talk about?" As if he was expecting her to tell him that they had discussed recipes or plays they had seen recently.

"You, mostly," she answered honestly. "She's got quite a high opinion of you. I honestly never thought I could sit through so much empty rambling about what a dreamboat a person is."

Jayce raised an eyebrow but didn't look up. "Really?"

"Imagine my surprise. I was asking her about whether or not she would even agree to be rehabilitated and she was the normal, uh..."

"Explosive psychopath?"

"..._explosive psychopath_ that she is for a while, but... I was trying to get a rise out of her, asking her what your appeal was and she just exploded with all these things she liked about you. She said you make a lovely _face_ after you finish building something. This is all your fault."

"Yeah, yeah," Jayce answered, setting the pencil down and rubbing his hands over his face. "My stupid face gets me into trouble all the time. D'you think it might help at all if I just wore a mask all the time?"

"Her personality is rubbing off on you."

_Oh, no._ "Sorry. She say anything else that wasn't related to how horribly I've tricked her into thinking I'm her type?"

Caitlyn shrugged. "Not really. I offered, and she said she doesn't want to do rehabilitation. That she'd much rather be in prison for life."

That sentence came down on Jayce hard, leaving him feeling as if the ceiling had just come down on him. She would rather rot in a cell than at least have a shot at continuing to live her life? What would that mean for the two of them? He might be able to visit her, if she didn't get tossed into solitary confinement—

Jayce shoved his consciousness back into the present, realizing he was staring at Caitlyn in horror. "She... would?"

"Yes. But she did also say that if rehabilitation is what _you_ want, she might consider it."

He rubbed the back of his neck again, swallowing hard. "I don't want to force her into anything she doesn't want." He also didn't want her to end up behind bars for the rest of his life because of him. How could he possibly plan to live with himself if she did?

Besides, what if Jinx went to therapy for years and years and years and she never got better? Worse, what if she _did_ get better but she wasn't the same anymore? Jayce couldn't picture her being a normally functioning person living in a regular house without a closet full of guns that could keep her company and cake in the refrigerator.

It was those quirky, completely insane things piggybacking on the occasional moment of vulnerability that made him come to terms with the fact that, despite all of his despicable sanity, she had fallen in love with him.

And it was because of all of those things that Jayce was sure now that he reciprocated.

Well, that he reciprocated, and he was pretty sure he was going to throw up.

"This is pretty bad, Cait," Jayce muttered, his throat dry. "She can't get locked up for the rest of her life. It'll kill her."

"Well, what do _you_ recommend? If she doesn't want us to try to fix her, and we can't put her in prison, then… what? Death sentence? Turn her loose on Piltover again?"

Jayce sat on the question for a good long while before turning his eyes up to Caitlyn and announcing, "I need to talk to her. Alone. Just once." He stood, heading for the door. Caitlyn grabbed his arm to stop him, getting up to block the door.

"I… I don't think that's a good idea, Jayce. Not now."

"Why not?!"

Caitlyn frowned, looking sympathetic but miles away from acquiescent. "I don't think you're in your right mind at the moment, Jayce. I'm afraid you might do or say something you'll regret later on. Just wait. Let it sit."

"I need to tell her—"

"Whatever you need to tell her," Caitlyn cut him off firmly, "can wait."

Jayce stared her down for a long moment. "You don't trust me. You think I'm going to try and break her out of there."

"I didn't say that."

"That's what you think, though. Isn't it?"

Caitlyn's eyes narrowed dangerously, as if she was daring him to challenge her. "I don't _think_ anything. You just need to stay here for a bit. Think some things through. Get some work done."

Jayce took a deep breath and stepped back, relenting to her. "Fine. I'm coming there first thing tomorrow, and I'm going to talk to her. And if, by some miracle, she manages to get out, then you'll know who to blame. Alright?"

"Alright. Good night, Jayce," she said pleasantly as she turned and opened the door to leave. "See you tomorrow."

He didn't answer her, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Jayce didn't make it to Caitlyn's office in the morning. He was woken up a few hours later by a frantic beating at his door. After too long without sleep, he had finally passed out in his clothes, although he wasn't sure a few hours of sleep was going to do him too much good. He sluggishly ambled to the door, rubbing his eyes as he yanked open the unlocked door, propping himself up against the door jamb. "Caitlyn, it's late; I said I'd be in tomorrow—"

"She's gone."

"Huh?"

"She. Is. Gone."

The three sharp words shook the sleep from Jayce's eyes as he blinked at Caitlyn with surprise. "She's… gone? How is she _gone_?"

"The entire wall of my office is rubble, Jayce! She blew it up!"

Part of Jayce was extremely relieved that Jinx had gotten out. Another part of him was terrified that he might be implicated. "With what?!"

"Her weapons are gone from the institute, too. Missing, completely. All that I have left is that stupid little laser gun of hers that was in my desk."

"Where's Vi?"

Caitlyn offered a hopeless shrug, resting a hand on her face as if to keep her grounded in reality. "I can't find her anywhere and I don't know where to look anymore. I think I'm losing it."

"Let's head up to the office, then, I guess," he suggested feebly. Caitlyn sighed but nodded,.

The walk to the office was silent, although Jayce had a sinking feeling that Caitlyn thought he had done something. He hadn't had much of a plan for getting Jinx out of the bind she was in, but apparently someone else did. But who in Piltover—other than him, unfortunately—would want to take the risk of getting her out and facing the wrath of Piltover Law Enforcement?

The gaping hole in the wall wasn't immediately noticeable, although rounding the corner it became clear that the side of the wall had been blasted in, leaving light streaming out of the side of the concrete building. Jayce covered his mouth. It probably wasn't a good time to say "Now you know how I feel" to Caitlyn, who was mourning the temporary loss of her sanctuary.

"It doesn't look like it's unfixable. It's not that bad," Jayce piped optimistically, which probably didn't mean much coming from a man whose home had a gaping hole in the roof. Caitlyn didn't look so convinced, scowling at his vivacity. He guessed it was probably a good idea to shut his goddamn mouth before he was assaulted by a police officer.

To her surprise, the door wasn't locked when Caitlyn pulled the door open. At Caitlyn's desk sat Vi, her legs propped up casually atop the desk. She looked like she was either resting her eyes or napping, which was something Vi seemed to do only to piss off Caitlyn and less to restore her seemingly endless reserves of energy.

"Where have you been?! You can't be here! You need to be looking for her!" Caitlyn started on her immediately, looking ready to throw her hat off and brawl with her partner.

"She's gone by now, Cait. It's been a long, _long_ few days." Vi seemed to have calmed down quite a bit, which was a relief considering it seemed that Caitlyn had taken on enough stress for everyone in town. "We can get after her tomorrow. Start fixing up the office again."

"How can you say that?! We need to go _now_," Caitlyn demanded pointing at the door, still ajar.

Vi shrugged. "You're tired, Cait. I am, too, and so is Loverboy over there. Let's give it a night, hey? You and I both know that Jinx isn't gonna go too far for us to catch."

Caitlyn looked like she had a long, _long_ list of negative responses to that. Jayce could only stare in dumbfounded wonder at Vi's indifference toward the entire situation. He was probably the only one in the room, if not the entire city-state of Piltover, that was worried about where she was gone and whether or not she would be back. If she thought it was worth the risk to come back.

Vi leaned her head back, yawning and stretching her arms out. "Besides, you and me both know that we're never gonna keep her until we catch her fair and square."

* * *

Three days later Jayce was woken up around noon by a bottle of suntan lotion hitting him square in the face. The hole in his ceiling had been patched up considerably, but there still remained a huge gap on one side that he hadn't gotten around to patching up yet. His machines, only returned to him last night by the group that had been sent out to scavenge Jinx's place, were piled up in a makeshift staircase leading to the ceiling.

He groaned at the rude awakening and glared up at the light that was no longer being blocked by a tarp on the roof.

"Not getting any younger up here, dummy!" Jinx called, peering into the hole in the ceiling. "I'm trying to get a tan going for bikini season and you're really not helping me get any hotter right now!"

He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. "What… What are you doing here?"

"Shut up and come up here already so we can have a chit-chat and tan and stuff!"

Realizing futilely that she wasn't going to answer him until he came up, he pitched the bottle of lotion back up at her and climbed up the stack of machines carefully, afraid that he was going to misstep and crush something important.

Oh, well. It was better to have more work to do, probably.

On the roof, Jinx was lying on her stomach with the back of her top undone, as if she wasn't already so pale she was almost grey. "You're going to get a sunburn. Also, what are you doing here? And how did you get out in the first place?"

"Lotion me up, then, stupid. That's what you're here for. Also, my new place doesn't have a locking front door or anything so it's pretty easy to get out and come back here. To bother you! Topless!"

"I was thinking more along the lines of how you managed to blow up Caitlyn's fucking office. I almost got blamed for that."

Jinx snorted as Jayce reluctantly squirted suntan lotion into his hands so he could rub it across her back, wondering if it might have been a good idea to inform her that he was not her butler. "I dunno. I got clocked with a big ol' piece of rubble and when I woke up I was outside Piltover with Fishbones and Pow-Pow. They didn't see anything, either. Why would good ol' Sheriff Hatboob think that you did it?"

"She was at my place the night you broke out and I said I wanted to come talk to you. She told me I wasn't allowed because she didn't trust that I wouldn't do something _regrettable_."

"Would you have, though? Like really? Were we gonna fuck through the bars?"

Jayce rolled his eyes. "Not like that, no."

"I was pretty scared for a hot minute there, you know," Jinx mentioned, giggling as Jayce ran his hands along the sides of her ribcage.

"What, that we were going to _fuck through the bars_?"

"No, don't be stupid. I was kinda freaking out that I was going to have to spend the rest of my life in prison. Or in therapy. The horror!"

Jayce sighed, taking a break and flexing his fingers. "Yeah, I was, too. You going to prison on account of me didn't sit so well with my moral compass. And you becoming horribly normal and sane for my sake just sounded sad."

"Oh, you. What did you want to come talk to me about, then? I'm here now, and we've got all the time in the world. Or at least maybe like an hour or two, which is when I gotta skedaddle so I don't get nabbed again like an idiot."

He shrugged and, out of habit, politely looked away as she rolled onto her back, leaving her top undone on the surface of the roof. "It doesn't matter. Maybe I actually was going to break you out. You don't know."

"Come _on_, it matters to me! Maybe a little!" She sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest and grinning at the sky. "Come on, pretty boy, talk to me."

"Alright, fine. I was thinking about what you told Caitlyn—"

"Aw, man, she told you? I'm gonna have to find out what her favorite restaurant is so I can let some roaches loose!"

"—and what you told _me_ before that." Jinx was unsurprisingly silent when he said this, furrowing her brow intently. "And it got me thinking that you and your irreverent, unrelenting crazy have kind of grown on me."

Jinx laughed. "Cut to the stupid chase already! I'm getting diabetes here!"

"Sorry to say it, psycho, but I guess I love you, too."

* * *

**A/N:** Sup! I have no excuses. I'm sorry I suck!

Thank you so much for reading Blueprints (and sticking with my horribly erratic update schedule), and I have a sequel already in, uh... development and it's going to probably come out Soon™, after I finish up the other thing I'm working on and blah whatever. So expect more of these two sometime in the future, and thanks again for reading!


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